


Self-Portrait of a Boy on Fire

by mean_whale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Coming Out, Crying, Developing Friendships, Drawing, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Kissing, Learning To Communicate, Loneliness, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Painting, Past Friendship, Photography, Self-Esteem Issues, mild homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mean_whale/pseuds/mean_whale
Summary: In a fit of nostalgia, Sirius decides to move to Hogsmeade, a small town saturated with sunny memories of a cute boy he used to know. He discovers that not everything is as he remembers, that bad memories can’t be kept locked away, and that sometimes you’re better off not using words to communicate.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78
Collections: Wolfstar Games 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Wolfstar Games 2020, team Sight.
> 
>  **Prompt:** I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
> 
> A big thank-you for my beta and the lovely people who encouraged me and helped me figure out where to take the story when I got stuck with it!

The day was promising to be beautiful: there were no clouds in the bright blue sky, and the sun had already warmed the air. Sirius thought it must have been a good sign. Starting his new job in his new hometown on a grey and rainy day would have probably given him a less optimistic view of his future.

He walked along the street, looking about. The buildings were neat, if old. There were people around, and on the scale of what he had gotten used to over the past two years, it seemed like hardly anyone. It was familiar, however, and in a way, comforting.

His decision to move into the small town of Hogsmeade had been made in a fit of nostalgia after he had accidentally heard that there was a job opening at the local library. What would be better, he had thought, than returning to Hogsmeade, a town filled with sunlit boyhood memories?

He glanced towards the north, where he could almost imagine the shadow of Hogwarts, a prestigious boarding school for rich boys, where he had spent seven years of his life. But it was in Hogsmeade where he had learned to be the person he really was underneath all the stuffy upbringing and pretentiousness.

Secretly – and this was something he had hardly dared to admit to himself – he had missed Hogsmeade because of a boy he had known back then. He had been 16, and John had been a year younger, and what Sirius remembered most vividly were his green eyes in the sunlight, the same sunlight bringing out his faint freckles, and the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck.

Sirius refused to remember how and why it had ended before it had even begun.

Remembering John had to remain a good memory, because John had been a revelation. John had helped mould him into the person he had since become, and without John’s influence, he might have continued heading towards what his parents had been pushing for him.

He stopped at the door to the library. It was much smaller than he had remembered, although Sirius had only ever visited it twice, both times with John. Sirius hadn’t cared much about books or reading, but John had… And he should definitely stop thinking about John. John was no longer a part of his life. In fact, John was probably not even a part of Hogsmeade any longer. It was far likelier that John had left for Cambridge or Oxford where he could study to become a professor. Sirius hoped that he had.

Sirius turned his thoughts back to himself. He was about to start his first day at the library, and he found himself nervous about the thought. He wasn’t sure which part of it was making him so nervous. He shouldn’t have been nervous. His job interview had gone very well, and Mr. Bones (“Please, call me Edgar.”) had seemed genuinely excited over hiring Sirius. Sirius didn’t fully understand why, because he thought that the job interview had made it quite clear that he didn’t know much about books and had no experience with libraries.

After a couple of deep breaths, Sirius opened the door and just caught Mr. Bones saying, “I finally found someone to help out. He should be here soon.”

Before whoever Mr. Bones had been addressing could answer, Sirius cleared his throat and stepped inside. Mr. Bones appeared from behind a bookshelf.

“Ah, Sirius,” he said joyfully and hurried to shake hands with Sirius. “Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Sirius said, surprised by the enthusiasm.

“Sirius?” he heard someone say in a voice of disbelief.

Sirius turned towards the voice, and the person who soon appeared was a young man with green eyes, faint freckles over the bridge of his nose, and hair that curled sweetly at his nape.

“Remus,” Mr. Bones said, pulling Sirius forward, still shaking his hand. “This is Sirius Potter.”

“Potter?” John – Remus? – said and raised his brows. “I thought your name was Black.”

Sirius blushed as Mr. Bones turned to look at him in surprise.

“You know each other?” he asked, rather than the question Sirius had been fearing.

Sirius nodded, feeling faint. John – Remus – shrugged.

“It was years ago,” John – no, Remus – said. “But yes, I guess so.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mr. Bones said, turning to Remus. “Reconnecting with childhood friends – what could be better!”

Remus pursed his lips in silent disagreement. Sirius felt like his head was spinning. Mr. Bones turned to look at him again.

“Remus will show you around,” he said. “I have to, unfortunately, go on a bit of a business trip. Can’t be rescheduled or I would have. I will be back tomorrow, so if there’s anything you need to ask, you can ask me then. But Remus here knows his way around the place. Feel free to ask him anything you might want to ask me.”

Sirius nodded, and before he knew it, he was left alone with John. Remus.

He stared at the door that had closed behind Mr. Bones, then blinked a few times before turning to John. Remus.

Remus?

“Well,” Sirius said with a smirk spreading over his lips. “Hello, _Remus_.”

Remus scoffed and said, “That’s right, I didn’t tell you my real name back then. Big deal.”

“It is, though,” Sirius argued. “We could have bonded over having unusual names.”

Remus crossed his arms. He didn’t seem happy to be reconnecting with Sirius.

“What’s with you going by Potter?” Remus asked. “I thought your friend was Potter.”

Sirius felt all air leave his lungs. He had thought that he had gotten over it. He had thought that he had gotten over many things, and Remus was proving him wrong within minutes of their reunion.

“I, well, I,” Sirius stuttered and turned to look at a pile of books. “My parents kicked me out.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw Remus uncross his arms.

“Oh,” Remus said. “I’m sorry.”

Sirius shrugged and tried to sound nonchalant as he said, “It’s whatever. The Potters took me in, so.”

“That was nice of them,” Remus said and flashed him a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Sirius nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, so he stayed quiet. Remus was picking at the hem of his shirt, head turned down. His hair was longer than it used to be, although still short. It hung around his face differently.

Remus rubbed his hands together. Sirius noticed that he had put his own hands in his pockets at some point but couldn’t remember when. He pulled them out and forced himself to keep his arms at his sides. Remus cleared his throat.

“So,” Remus said. “I guess I should show you around. I assume you didn’t visit often enough to remember even the basic layout.”

“I remember where the front door is,” Sirius said.

Remus stared at him for just a moment, then turned his head away, but Sirius didn’t miss how his lips twitched.

“Sure,” Remus said. “Follow me.”

Remus showed him around the library. It wasn’t a big building, but somehow Sirius felt like the bookshelves were never-ending. And there were two floors of them. And a storage for older books. He didn’t know how he would ever learn where everything was. He didn’t know how he had gotten hired in the first place.

At least Remus seemed to have slipped into some sort of a work persona, and the cool demeanour was replaced by efficiency. He explained what Sirius was expected to do – which, thankfully, didn’t sound too daunting – and showed him how to work the computer systems.

By lunch, Sirius felt like his brain was too full to process anything else, but he had also managed to get rid of some of his nerves over his capabilities. Remus announced the lunch break, and once he realised that Sirius hadn’t brought any food with him, proceeded to guide him out the door while absentmindedly recommending he visit the Three Broomsticks for their lunch buffet. Sirius was left standing by the closed library door wondering about how quickly Remus could go from professional to closed-off.

Slowly, Sirius made his way to the Three Broomsticks. It had been raining, judging by the puddles on the street, but currently it was sunny. The walk was instantly familiar, and Sirius felt oddly like he was a schoolboy again. The feeling was a weird mix of warm nostalgia and dark memories that he had tried his hardest to keep from surfacing.

He had thought that moving to Hogsmeade would be fun, a way to relive the carefree days of not having to worry about what the future would bring, but it appeared that he had forgotten to account for the fact that he had spent his last year at Hogwarts already disinherited, owning nothing except the charity of the Potters. He had spent so much time suppressing the memories of things gone wrong that he had actually fooled himself into believing that they could not resurface.

He had not expected to remember the sting of John – who was really Remus and now his co-worker – leaving him with only the emptiness of being told he wasn’t good enough and regret over saying things he didn’t really mean. He hadn’t expected to remember kissing his first boyfriend in the shadows of night as they were breaking curfew, such vivid images of holding hands. He had tried to forget because that relationship had been a mistake, it had driven him to destruction, and it was much nicer to instead remember John because nothing had happened between them that could have been used against him.

Sirius opened the door to the Three Broomsticks, saw that Madam Rosmerta still worked there, and turned away before she could spot him and possibly recognise him. He made his way to the grocery store instead and bought a salad and a coffee. He sat down on a relatively dry bench in the park and ate slowly, wondering how many people could remember him. It had only been two years since he had left, and he knew that he and James had left an impression on many residents of Hogsmeade.

He wondered if he would run into boys he knew from Hogwarts once the summer was over. He hadn’t really known the boys who were significantly younger than him, but they might still remember him. Unless they couldn’t recognise him with long hair and ripped jeans.

His abrupt decision to return was starting to seem more and more ridiculous. What had he been thinking? He had only moved to Hogsmeade the day before, having accepted his job just a week earlier. He should have stayed with the Potters and found a job somewhere closer-by. Hogsmeade was only going to make him miserable, but he couldn’t leave without quitting his job, and Mr. Bones had looked so happy to find a new employee. Sirius thought that maybe it was hard to find new employees in a town where the majority of people seemed to be elderly.

Sirius checked his phone. James hadn’t sent him anything new since wishing him luck with his new job in the morning. Peter had already wished him luck the previous day.

He realised that his break had ended over five minutes earlier.

Sirius dumped his trash into the bin and hurried back to the library, arriving nine minutes too late.

“You’re late,” was the first thing Remus said when Sirius stepped in.

The door shut with a quiet thud behind Sirius.

“Sorry,” he said. “It won’t happen again.”

Remus gave him an appraising look, and Sirius expected to be told off. Instead, Remus turned away and said, “I’ll have my lunch now. You should do fine on your own.”

“What?” Sirius asked, blinking after Remus, who was already walking away.

“I’ll be right there in the staff room,” Remus said without turning. “If there’s an emergency, you can fetch me.”

Sirius watched Remus disappear from sight, the door closing behind him, and then it was quiet.

Sirius had a moment of panic, thinking that there was no way he would know what to do if someone came in asking for help. Then he firmly reminded himself that all morning, no one had come in. What were the odds of someone coming in right then, when he was alone?

He had barely finished the thought when he heard the front door open. His heart sank.

“Oh, good afternoon,” someone said, and he turned towards the woman who had walked in, immediately recognising her. She seemed to recognise him too, because she smiled and said, “Well, if it isn’t Sirius Black.”

“It’s Potter these days, Professor McGonagall,” Sirius said and smiled as sweetly as he could.

“Ah, that’s right,” Professor McGonagall said. “How are the Potters?”

“Effie and Monty are great,” Sirius said. “They’re both enjoying retirement.”

“And how is James?” Professor McGonagall asked. “Still causing mischief wherever he goes?”

Sirius’s smile widened. “He’s still a walking disaster, yes. I expect he won’t cause quite as much chaos now that I’m not around, though.”

McGonagall took a moment to consider him before asking, “And how come you are here?”

“How could I live without you around, Minnie?” Sirius asked and gave her an over-exaggerated wink.

McGonagall tried to suppress a smile and shook her head. “Still as impossible as ever, I see. Have you moved to Hogsmeade or are you just visiting?”

“I just moved here, yes,” Sirius said. “I became a librarian. Isn’t that something?”

“That is something,” McGonagall said, kindlier than Sirius had expected, leaving him feeling oddly anxious. “I have to say, I never thought I would see you voluntarily spend any time in a library, let alone work in one, but you were always full of surprises, Mr. Black. Excuse me; Mr. Potter.”

Sirius smiled widely, hoping that it hid how there seemed to be a hole in his chest.

“I won’t keep you from your work any longer,” McGonagall said. “It was good to see you. I always knew you would grow up to be a fine young man.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Sirius said quietly, cheeks burning up.

“I expect we’ll be seeing more of each other,” McGonagall said. “The school library doesn’t offer much in terms of entertainment.”

With that, she walked deeper into the library. Sirius thought he saw something move and turned his head just in time to see the staff room door closing silently.

*

The afternoon was quiet and boring, and Sirius found himself digging out his phone to complain to James. Just as he was sending his message, Remus appeared out of nowhere and gave Sirius a dirty look when he saw Sirius using his phone.

“What kind of a business trip do you need to go on if you’re running a library?” Sirius quickly asked and discreetly slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Remus gave him a long hard look, then turned towards a pile of books.

“Edgar runs a side-business in old books,” he said without turning his eyes up from the books as he started organising them into a trolley. “He went to visit a book fair in the hopes of locating a rare first edition for a client.”

“Oh.”

It went quiet, which was exactly how all their conversations ended. Remus would answer Sirius’s questions precisely and make sure to give just a bit of extra information to prevent Sirius from needing to ask a follow-up question. He hadn’t been friendly exactly, but he wasn’t exceptionally rude either and that counted as a win, Sirius thought.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted Remus’s approval. He thought it may have stemmed from some deep-seated issues that he had never worked through, being back in Hogsmeade reminding him of things he had wanted to put behind him and bringing up the need to show everyone that he was different from his family, that he was his own person, a good person. Maybe he wanted to prove Remus wrong.

Or it may have been the fact that Remus was so exceptionally handsome.

Sirius had remembered John as a cute boy, who seemed shy at first glance but was just a loner by nature. John had taken a while to warm up to Sirius, but once he had, he had talked a lot. They’d had discussions almost indiscriminately about anything they could think of, and John had a specific way of smiling when he spoke of something he cared about, and the dimple that appeared on his left cheek was adorable.

Remus was John but all grown up. His soft cheeks had melted, he had grown more muscular, and he was so, so good-looking. Sirius wasn’t sure which word suited him the best. Handsome? Yes. Beautiful? Yes. But there was also an undercurrent of cuteness, a memory of John in his eyes and in his freckles and in the way his lips pursed when he thought. His hair was still curly and looked soft, and Sirius wanted to sink his fingers in it. He wondered if Remus still got the dimple when he smiled.

Sirius gazed around the empty library.

“How come Mr. Bones needed to hire someone else to work here?” he asked. “Is it always this quiet?”

“You should call him Edgar,” Remus said, still piling books and not looking at Sirius. “He won’t let you keep calling him Mr. Bones.”

“Right,” Sirius said slowly and waited, but Remus remained quiet. “But why did he need a new employee?”

“It allows him to focus on his side-business,” Remus said, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that made Sirius doubt it was the whole truth. “It’s not always this quiet, no. People are on summer holidays, and we get lots of kids from Hogwarts, so it will stop being quiet once summer ends.”

“Oh, okay,” Sirius said. “I guess that makes sense. The school library is really more for studying.”

“I’m surprised you know the contents of any library,” Remus muttered.

Sirius felt a smile spreading over his face. Remus had made sure not to allude to them having once known each other after their initial meeting, so hearing him finally acknowledge it, albeit in a roundabout way, made Sirius feel oddly accomplished.

“I did have to study, you know,” he said. “The essays don’t write themselves.”

Remus responded with a sharp hum but said nothing. He started wheeling his trolley towards the bookshelves.

“You can help me reshelve these,” he said without turning his head.

Sirius hurried to follow him, and they spent the last ten minutes of their workday shelving books, Sirius taking his time trying to find the correct shelves and Remus offering a few helpful tips but mostly watching Sirius struggle. Sirius found it ridiculous how hard it was for him to figure out which shelves were which, when they were in numerical order.

On their way out, Remus explained how the alarm system worked and how to make sure the door was properly locked. It didn’t seem too complicated, but Sirius hoped that he would get shown it a few more times before he would eventually end up having to do it himself.

“Want to go out for a drink?” Sirius asked, before Remus had time to say his goodbyes and head home.

“I don’t think so,” Remus said and turned to go.

Sirius followed him. The ground was wet, and their footsteps squelched as they walked.

“Come on, Remus,” Sirius said. “Wouldn’t it be fun? No sneaking around to get a bit of alcohol? All nice and legal now?”

He flashed Remus a disarming smile.

It didn’t disarm Remus, who merely scoffed and shook his head. At least he didn’t appear uncomfortable.

“You might not want to socialise with me outside of work,” Remus said, when Sirius continued following him.

“Why’s that?” Sirius asked.

“I’m the resident homosexual,” Remus said. “You’ll be gay by association.”

Sirius laughed, but abruptly went quiet when Remus didn’t join in.

“Oh, you were being serious,” Sirius said.

Remus looked at him with his brows raised but said nothing. Sirius raised his own brows in question.

“Oh,” Remus then said. “You weren’t making a pun. How unexpected.”

Sirius barked out a laugh and said, “That joke is so overused. I’ve graduated onto better ones.”

“Well, I don’t wish to hear any of them,” Remus said. “I mean it, Sirius. I don’t want to go out for a drink.”

Sirius watched Remus for a moment before saying, “Okay. Maybe another time?”

Remus shrugged, but at least it wasn’t an outright dismissal.

“Okay,” Sirius said, surprising himself with how soft his voice came out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Have a nice evening!”

Remus looked at him in bemusement. Sirius waved and turned to a different street, heading to his flat.

Meeting Remus again had been completely unexpected, even though he had secretly hoped it would happen, Sirius reflected as he settled down by his desk. Without thinking about it much, he picked up the gorgeous sketchbook Effie and Monty had gifted him just as he left. The cover was red and embossed with gold, and he opened it to sketch Remus.

He kept thinking about John and Remus and how they were the same person. They looked so different but so similar. He wondered if Remus would still feel warm against his arm if they sat closely together as Remus showed him something from a book, or as Sirius doodled whatever was before them and Remus watched. Sometimes John had rested his head on Sirius’s shoulder while Sirius drew, and that memory still made Sirius’s skin tingle.

He thought about all the places John had shown him – all of them places that he would never have found on his own, he was certain. His favourite had been the house known as the Shrieking Shack. Back at Hogwarts the Shack was known as a haunted house – a fact which Sirius had relayed to John the first time John had mentioned the place. It had caused John to laugh so hard he was eventually crying.

John had led him into the forest surrounding Hogwarts and up to a particular tree, which Sirius could not tell apart from the other trees. John had crawled among the tree roots and disappeared, and as Sirius followed, he found himself in a dark tunnel with John. John lit their way with a torch, and they followed a cramped tunnel for what felt like hours.

As they made their way forward, John informed him that the Shack had stood abandoned for decades, but had been recently bought by a man who had big plans on renovating – or, most likely, demolishing and then rebuilding – it, but people were uncertain whether he was doing it to turn it into a summer home or to sell it forward. As it stood, the project had been on stall for a few years.

There used to be squatters in the Shack, which is why the townspeople had started saying it was haunted, which had then turned into a fact for the bored boys at Hogwarts who wanted a bit of excitement in their lives but not too much of it. John told him that the new owner had installed cameras on the property and had managed to keep squatters out.

What he didn’t know, however, was that there was a secret passage that led into the cellar, which is where John took Sirius. As they made their way up the creaking stairs, Sirius had asked whether there were cameras inside as well.

John told him no.

The Shack wasn’t exactly comfortable: it was old and dusty, the squatters had destroyed a lot of the furniture that had been left behind, there were empty cans of spray paint, crude graffiti on the walls, and in one room Sirius discovered a stash of used needles.

He had asked John if their torch could be seen from the outside.

John told him no. Apparently, the windows and doors were so well boarded that light didn’t seep through.

They had spent some time in the Shack, visited it several times, and the closer it got to summer, the more Sirius liked spending time there. Although, he now thought, that must have been because he was with John. His crush on John had reached massive proportions by the spring, he just hadn’t realised it.

He finished his sketch quickly, unable to remember every detail about Remus. Maybe one day they would be close again and he could look at Remus with permission, and then he would draw a picture of Remus that truly captured how beautiful he was.

*

Having Mr. Bones – no, Edgar – present at the library didn’t change much, Sirius found the following day; Edgar spent a lot of time in his office making phone calls and browsing the internet in search of old books. Why he had thought Hogsmeade was the best place for such a specialised business, Sirius didn’t know and couldn’t begin to guess.

Remus remained aloof, but at least he wasn’t rude and helped Sirius when he had questions. Sirius was surprised by how many questions he had, even though it all seemed so straightforward. Remus explained to him about the importance of keeping up with literary trends so they would know which upcoming books to order and which to leave out, not that Sirius was required to do that. They wanted to cater to all age-groups, and they wanted to offer a wide selection of both fiction and non-fiction.

Remus didn’t say it outright, but Sirius came to understand that Remus personally made sure to specifically suggest LGBT literature so that it would be available, even though it wasn’t often sought out. Sirius didn’t like the implication of that, but it shouldn’t have surprised him.

Where he came from, where the Black family’s roots were, was highly homophobic, old-fashioned, and disinclined to change. He had only ever heard people talk about homosexuality in a negative way, whether it was his mother making snide comments about a couple she had seen holding hands in the street or the boys in school using it as an insult. Being gay had been bad and wrong, an abomination that should not be allowed, and that was how Sirius had viewed the world too.

That attitude had soaked into the walls of Hogwarts where the rich snobby families sent their sweet sons, who had been immersed in their parents’ worldviews, to learn how to become successful heirs, which included producing offspring. That attitude had seemed present in Hogsmeade too, now that he thought about it.

Back then, he hadn’t questioned it, not even when he was 16 and crushing on Remus, or when he was 17 and dating a boy. It made him sad to think that what had seemed so normal to him back then, now seemed bleak and oppressive. The Hogsmeade of his memories had been sunshine and warmth, and that image had been shattered within his first days of living there.

Hogsmeade turned out to be just like anyplace else, just less progressive.

Sirius wondered how long he should work for Edgar before it stopped being terribly rude to resign.

Moving to Hogsmeade had clearly been a mistake, Sirius mused as he spent his lunch break going to the Three Broomsticks, being recognised by Madam Rosmerta and trying to avoid answering any awkward questions.

The lunch buffet, just like Remus had said, was excellent, though.

Remus took his lunch after Sirius yet again, and Sirius wondered if that was normal or if it was Remus trying to avoid spending time with Sirius as much as he could.

Work moved slowly that day. Sirius was sure that the clock he was glancing at every now and again had malfunctioned, because there was no way that only five minutes had passed when it had felt like fifty.

Sirius didn’t understand why Edgar had hired him to start immediately, when there were hardly any people coming in. He was sure that he would never learn how to do anything when there were no chances for him to practice.

Remus noticed his restlessness. He gave Sirius a glare that was enough to halt even Sirius’s heart, but it didn’t take long for Sirius to forget and start drumming the table with his fingers.

Remus heaved a sigh, got up, and left. Sirius felt bad for bothering him. He couldn’t help his restless energy. It had always been difficult for him to sit still. In school, it had been a nightmare to try to sit and absorb whatever it was that the professors were telling them. He could never stay still, always had to move some part of himself, and it had always gotten him in trouble.

The only times he stayed still were when he was drawing, but he couldn’t draw during lessons because drawing was _gay_ and embarrassing.

Before he could sink deeper into his dark musings, Remus pushed a trolley overflowing with books next to him.

“Reshelve these,” he said.

Sirius looked at the books, then at Remus. Remus was looking back with a cocked eyebrow.

“You’ll learn where the shelves are quicker if you have to find them,” Remus said.

Sirius smiled widely.

“Thank you,” he said.

The next however long went by as he navigated around the bookshelves. The books came from all over the place, and only after having walked back and forth across the entire library a few times did Sirius realise that the books in the trolley were not in any kind of an order. Remus must have pulled them out of the selves and then stuck them in wherever.

He had just placed the last book on the shelf and was pushing the trolley back to its place, when Edgar emerged from his office. He seemed startled to see Remus there. Then he seemed startled to see Sirius. He looked at his wristwatch.

“It’s earlier than I thought,” he said. “But why don’t you boys head home. It’s not long until closing. I can do that today.”

Remus seemed reluctant, but eventually nodded. Sirius quickly gathered his things and waited for Remus, who was taking his time.

Then, finally, Remus headed to the door, and Sirius followed him out.

Remus turned to the side of the building, took a key out of his pocket, and opened the lock to the sole bike in the bicycle stand.

“You didn’t have a bike yesterday,” Sirius observed.

“No,” Remus said and started walking with his bike.

Sirius followed him, growing more and more confused.

“You were also going in a different direction yesterday,” he pointed out.

“I wasn’t going home yesterday,” Remus said, and his voice was clipped in a way it hadn’t been so far.

“Okay,” Sirius said. “I was just wondering.”

Remus hummed but otherwise remained quiet. Sirius followed him quietly. There were people around, but none of them greeted Remus. Sirius recognised an old lady who had given him a hearty hello the previous day, but now she turned away. Sirius raised his brows.

A part of him had still been reluctant to believe when Remus said that the people… Well, Remus hadn’t said that the people were treating him poorly, but it had been implied. Seeing it happen made Sirius’s heart ache, and he was surprised that most of that ache was for Remus rather than himself; as far as he knew, Remus had always lived in Hogsmeade; he had always had to deal with it.

Although, Sirius didn’t know how long Remus had been out. Or why he was out in the first place. He couldn’t imagine it being purposeful, although with Remus one never knew. Maybe being out was Remus’s way of fighting for a difference in his backwards hometown.

Then again, if that was the case, Sirius would expect Remus to make it more obvious that he was fighting. There was nothing about him that said activist, not even the smallest rainbow flags on his backpack, nothing stereotypically gay in his clothing or the way he styled himself. He looked like he was a normal boy going about his normal life and had no interest in causing controversy.

“Hello, Remus!” a young man called from across the street.

Remus waved at him with a friendly smile. Sirius remembered that smile, remembered when it had been meant for him.

He looked away.

“I would recommend getting a bike,” Remus said abruptly. “You’ll get to work faster.”

“Oh, that’s a good point,” Sirius said, then laughed nervously. “I guess it will take time for me to realise that I can’t just get the tube when I need to go somewhere.”

“What is a big city boy like you doing in a small town like this?” Remus asked, although Sirius wasn’t sure if it was really a question.

Remus didn’t ask him things, or if he did, they were work related. Sirius had yet to have any kind of interaction with Remus that didn’t end with Remus walking away, giving him a long look, or turning his head away and going quiet.

“There was a job opening,” Sirius said tentatively.

Remus glanced at him and said, “I wouldn’t have imagined you’d be interested in working in a library.”

“Well,” Sirius said slowly, “I’m really not. I just… It’s a job.”

Remus snorted drily but didn’t say anything.

“I thought,” Sirius said, but then wasn’t sure how to continue.

He didn’t want to open up to Remus because, well, he didn’t want to open up to anyone, but he was also worried about how Remus would look at him if he was honest. Remus would laugh, most likely. Maybe not to Sirius’s face, because Remus was – or at least had been – a kind and considerate person, but he would laugh on the inside, and Sirius was sure that he would be able to tell.

“Want to go out for a drink?” he asked to stop his thoughts from spiralling out of control.

Remus sighed and firmly said, “Sirius, do you understand what people will think if you’re hanging out with me? They will think you’re dating me.”

“Who cares,” Sirius said, getting increasingly impatient with Remus’s excuses. “Do you _want_ to get a drink with me?”

Remus glanced at him before saying, “No, thank you.”

“Okay,” Sirius said immediately. “Maybe another day, yeah?”

Remus frowned at him and bit his lip, but didn’t say anything, didn’t even shake his head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Sirius said. “Have a good one!”

Remus glanced at him, and for just a moment, their eyes met. Sirius’s heart skipped a beat and he was vividly reminded of looking John in the eyes and feeling the same.

Then Remus turned away and quietly said, “Bye, Sirius.”

Sirius grinned, even though Remus couldn’t see it, turned around, and headed back home. On his way he thought that Remus had been right: he really should get a bike.

*

The next day was just as quiet as the previous days had been. Edgar spent the majority of his time in his office. Even Remus seemed bored.

Sirius decided to take advantage of the situation and ask some questions he had been wondering about.

“Hey, Remus,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“Do you still live at home?”

Remus froze.

“Yes,” he said, but his voice was clipped.

Sirius wasn’t sure what to think. Remus turned his attention to his computer again.

“How are your parents?” Sirius asked cautiously.

Remus sighed and said, very matter-of-factly, “They’re dead.”

Oh.

Sirius had to repeat the words a few times before they started to truly sink in.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

Remus shrugged, but it was stiff. Sirius turned back to his own computer. The silence was tense in a new way, and he didn’t know how to defuse it.

After a moment, Remus said, “I’m taking my lunch early.”

Sirius didn’t say anything as Remus got up and headed to the staff room.

Remus remained stand-offish until the early afternoon, when a girl walked in and immediately gravitated towards Sirius, unabashedly flirting with him. He was still reeling from the earlier conversation with Remus and didn’t know how to handle a girl batting her long eyelashes at him. He heard Remus snicker when she tried to give him her number.

Sirius sighed deeply when she finally left.

“Do you know her?” Sirius asked. “Does she come in often? Please, tell me she doesn’t.”

Remus had a big smile on his face when he looked at Sirius, and suddenly Sirius wasn’t quite as uncomfortable with the flirting as he had been.

“She’s actually moving away at the end of August,” Remus said.

“Oh, thank god,” Sirius sighed.

Remus laughed and started organising a pile of books.

“I thought you’d have been flattered,” he said. “No offence, but you used to be very vain.”

“Well, I’m a changed man,” Sirius said haughtily and combed his fingers through his hair. “And I guess I am flattered, just… It’s so awkward to be flirted with by someone I’ll never have any interest in.”

“What, she’s not your type?” Remus asked lightly. “You give off the vibe that she would be your type.”

Sirius bit his lip. He looked at Remus from the corner of his eye as he said, “I don’t swing that way.”

Remus’s arm jerked and nearly sent his pile of books to the floor. Sirius had expected a reaction, but not such an extreme reaction. He turned to look at Remus who was staring at him with piercing eyes. Remus seemed angry.

“What?” he asked, and he sounded angry too.

Sirius shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant.

“It means that I’m gay,” he said. “Do you need help with those books?”

Remus glared at him for a while longer, then shook his head and turned back to his books. Sirius turned the other way, too unnerved by Remus’s reaction to keep looking at him. At the same time, he wanted to see Remus, he wanted to know what Remus was thinking.

He didn’t understand Remus at all.

It felt bad, because he had always felt that he understood John. Why was Remus so different?

He could almost feel Remus staring at the back of his head. He couldn’t help remembering the way John had looked the last time Sirius had seen him: his eyes piercingly angry, but his face impassive and cold.

Sirius shivered. He had never wanted to remember that. He had neatly packaged it under layers of happier memories, shoved it to the back of his mind, and it was supposed to never surface again.

He hated knowing that he had caused that expression on John’s face, but he also hated knowing that John had deserved it.

Remus had deserved it. He should stop separating John from Remus. They were the same person, and if he kept in mind that Remus was John, that it was Remus who had said those hurtful things to him, then maybe he would stop being so attracted to Remus. That attraction was going nowhere, and he didn’t really want it to go anywhere, for as long as he just kept remembering what Remus had said.

The rest of the day they spent in tense silence, and when they got off, Sirius didn’t try to invite Remus out for a drink.


	2. Chapter 2

Life quickly fell into a slow routine, although there had been an increase in customers after August started. Sirius bought a bike as per Remus’s suggestion, which made his commute quicker. Remus continued only talking to him about work, and Sirius didn’t try to start conversations. If Remus wanted distance, he could have his distance. Remus went as far as to make excuses to leave work later than Sirius to avoid leaving together.

At the end of his third week in Hogsmeade, Sirius had noticed that every Thursday Remus left work early. He was immensely curious but knew better than to try to ask about it.

That weekend, Sirius took his bike and rode towards Hogwarts. Once he reached the intersection that led to the school, he turned towards the south and headed away. There was a thick forest between the road and Hogwarts, and Sirius rode along the treeline until he found the start of a very specific trail. He left his bike in the shadows of the trees and followed the trail on foot.

The trail wasn’t easily noticeable, and one had to know to look for it to find it. Sirius had learned that from Remus. From John. They had once followed the trail together, two young boys, frequently glancing at each other with secret smiles, walking so close to one another that their hands had kept bumping together.

John had led Sirius among the trees, and a part of Sirius was surprised to find that he still remembered where to go because they had only been there twice. The first time had been in late May, the second time in mid-June. The second time Sirius remembered more clearly because…

He didn’t want to think about it yet, so he redirected his thoughts and continued on, until he reached the clearing John had wanted to show him back then. It was still there, and it still looked exactly the same. The sun was shining brightly, there was a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves in the trees, and the ground was lush and green. He stopped for a moment to soak in the sight of it. It made his heart swell.

He headed over to the very same spot where he had once lain on the ground with John by his side and sat down. It was amazing how four years later it all still looked the same. He could almost imagine that if he turned his head, he would see John sitting next to him, and if he glanced down, he would find himself wearing his old snobby clothes.

He lay down and crossed his hands behind his head. The sky was bright blue with shreds of cloud slowly sliding over it. It had been a very similar day back then – the warmest day of June that year – and he had lain just like he was now, with John lying on his stomach beside him, watching Sirius with a smile on his face.

They had always been looking at each other, right from the moment they had first met. Sirius couldn’t stop watching John because there was something alluring about him, about everything in him: the way he moved, the way he dressed, the way he looked at Sirius. John’s eyes were green with flecks of hazel in them. Sirius knew that because he had looked deep into them.

John had looked at Sirius like he was good, like he was exactly how he was supposed to be, with no expectation of anything else. John looked at Sirius like he was special, but not in the same way other people did. Other people only saw money and power, and they wanted a part of it. John looked at him like none of that mattered.

John’s eyes had always stripped him bare of his family’s name, and it had been both exhilarating and frightening. It had made him feel vulnerable, and he had never liked feeling vulnerable, but John had also made him feel safe. Sirius had felt like it was okay to show John the side of him he often kept hidden from everyone except James, the side that was soft. John made him feel exposed but in a good way.

John had looked at Sirius, and what Sirius had seen was want. He had seen it, because that’s exactly how he had been looking at John in return. He wanted something, and he had spent months wondering what that something was, until he had realised it, on that day in mid-June as they lay next to each other on the soft ground, surrounded by trees, and the sun had warmed them and made John’s face shine; he wanted John.

He wanted to hold John’s hand, he wanted to kiss John’s pink lips, and he wanted to hug John, feel him breathing, feel his heart beating, feel him alive next to himself, the both of them alive and breathing the same air.

He had never felt that way before, and it was yet another thing that was both exhilarating and frightening. He realised that this was the way he was expected to feel about the girls his parents had been conspicuously parading around him, trying to encourage him to choose a fiancée, even though he had been still so young. Even now, he was still too young.

He realised, at that moment, that he would never feel the same about a girl, because as he lay there watching John read a book, he recognised parts of the feeling; he had felt those parts before, but all of them separately, as he looked at some of the boys at Hogwarts. Never had all those parts come together, so obviously telling him that this was what he wanted.

Sirius could no longer remember what book John had been reading. He sat up and wished that he could remember. What he did remember, was sitting next to John, leaning against a boulder whose surface had been warmed up by the sun. He shifted over to the boulder and sat with his back against it. It was warm.

If he closed his eyes, he could hear John next to him. They were sitting so close to each other that their arms were pressed together. John’s skin was soft and warm, and Sirius wanted to touch it with his fingertips.

Sirius had grasped at John’s hand, but before he could take a hold of it, John pulled away. Sirius had quickly pulled his own hand back too.

John had looked at him warily, then turned his head away. Quietly, he had said, “You don’t deserve me.”

Sirius’s ears had been ringing. He repeated the words in his mind, over and over, each time getting angrier.

“As if I’d want someone like _you_ ,” he spat out before John could notice that his feelings were hurt.

John could only affect Sirius’s feelings if Sirius let him, and he wasn’t going to allow that. John would never have any power over his feelings, Sirius told himself.

He had stood up quickly. John had turned his head down, and all Sirius could see of him was his hair, the curly locks shining in the sun; their deep honey-colour that used to be so comforting now looked tacky. John’s arms looked thin, his shoulders looked thin, everything about him seemed small and meaningless.

“I can’t believe I’ve wasted all this time with someone like _you_ ,” Sirius said, voice sharp.

He gave John one last glare, which was met by John’s equally angry glare, then stomped out of the clearing, amongst the trees, and he hadn’t stopped until he had been back in his dorm, throwing himself on his bed and not answering any of James’s questions about his mood.

He had never told James. Sometimes he thought that James had known anyway.

Sirius closed his eyes, then opened them. The clearing looked exactly the same. His heart hurt exactly the same.

He couldn’t believe that four years later, he still felt the same.

He didn’t understand Remus. But then, he hadn’t really understood John either – he had just thought he did. Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Remus, wanting to be close to him again.

Maybe he was just stupid.

Slowly, he made his way out of the woods and went home. He lay on the bed and called James in the hopes that he would pull him into a conversation about something trivial. He was blissfully right.

*

On Monday, Remus didn’t show up to work. Edgar appeared to be untroubled by it, so Sirius assumed it wasn’t anything too bad. As he thought about it, he remembered that Remus had seemed a bit under the weather on Friday.

On Tuesday, Remus was back at work, but he looked awful: he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, his movements were slow, and he avoided interacting with the two clients who needed help. That could have been a coincidence, though, because it was important for Sirius to learn how to help clients. He did, however, think that Remus simply didn’t want to deal with people. He seemed to be dragging himself through the day, his face so impassive that Sirius realised how expressive it usually was.

When Remus hadn’t returned from his lunch break, Sirius headed to the staff room. He found Remus sitting by the table, head pillowed on his arms, fast asleep. Remus appeared to need the sleep, however, so Sirius let him be.

“Where’s Remus?” Edgar asked, when Sirius came out of the staff room.

“He’s asleep,” Sirius said.

Edgar glanced worriedly at the door, then nodded.

“Let him sleep for a bit,” he said quietly. “He needs it.”

Sirius wondered if it was a long-term condition Remus had. Edgar didn’t seem surprised by anything concerning Remus. Remus must have worked for him for quite a while, or they must have otherwise known each other for a long time.

Half an hour after the end of his lunch break, Remus emerged. He looked like the nap had done nothing for him. He sat down in front of his computer, staring at the screen. Sirius walked past him from behind to see that Remus was staring at the desktop. Or, he supposed, it was more accurate to say that Remus was staring into nothingness.

After Remus had achieved exactly nothing in nearly two hours, Edgar came over to him.

“You should go home, Remus,” he said kindly. “Try again tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Remus said, surprising Sirius who had expected Remus to insist that he was fine and could stay.

Sirius watched as Remus slowly pushed his chair under the table and left without a word.

Edgar acted like nothing unusual had happened, but Sirius’s worry for Remus increased.

The next day, Remus was acting normally most of the time. He still looked tired, but while his movements were occasionally sluggish, he was otherwise his usual self.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to forget all about Remus’s mystery illness, especially after they entered September and the library became even busier.

Sirius found out that there were other people who worked in the library too – they had just been on their holidays. One of them was the young man Sirius had seen Remus greeting on the street. His name was Caradoc Dearborn, he was maybe ten years older than Sirius and Remus, and he was annoyingly handsome with his long wavy hair. He was also annoyingly in love with his wife who would visit him every day during lunch.

Another person working at the library was a woman called Molly Weasley. Sirius had deduced that she was, in fact, Remus’s neighbour, and that she had so many children Sirius had immediately lost count. She was very friendly and immediately took a motherly role with Sirius, who, while finding it sweet and touching, couldn’t help feeling the same anxiety he still often felt when Effie was acting particularly maternal with him.

All in all, it wasn’t as big a workload as Sirius had worried, and only a few older boys from Hogwarts asked him if he was Sirius Black. Some of the professors visited too, most of them recognising him. He was never quite sure how to deal with being told by them how happy they were to see him flourishing and making his life into what he wanted it to be. It made his chest hurt, and each time one of his old professors had left after complimenting him, he had to withdraw into the staff room for a breather.

Sometimes he noticed Remus watching him, then quickly turning his eyes away when he noticed Sirius looking back. It made Sirius feel hollow, because he couldn’t help remembering how John had used to look at him, so openly, so earnestly, and how they had spent time together quietly because words weren’t necessary, they could read each other’s eyes.

On bad days, he thought that Remus must have been measuring him up, seeing if Sirius was still undeserving of his attention. If his behaviour was any indication, he had found Sirius undeserving of anything more than distant stares.

On good days, he couldn’t help wondering if maybe Remus was watching him for the same reason he was watching Remus; maybe Remus wanted to get to know him better again. Maybe they could fix the mistakes of their past. It seemed possible especially when Remus would faintly smile at him before turning away, ears red.

But then, Sirius was probably being too hopeful, because often Remus would look at him indifferently, maybe even glare at him if he was being too obtuse in Remus’s opinion.

Remus was a constant mystery.

Something else that baffled Sirius was how people weren’t openly homophobic towards him, even though it seemed that everyone had quickly found out that he was friendly with Remus. Based on the way Remus had talked, Sirius had expected overt backlash but had received almost none. There was that one elderly lady whom he saw every day and who made a point of always turning away. Then there was the young man who worked as a barista in the café close to the library, making it the ideal place for Sirius to pop by whenever he felt the need for extra caffeine.

“Aren’t you the bloke who’s been hanging out with Lupin?” the man – whose name was Jacob, according to his nametag – had asked him the first time he had visited the café when Jacob was working.

“That’s right,” Sirius had said, suppressing the urge to point out that he worked with Remus and following him for a couple of blocks after work on two days to ask him out for a friendly drink didn’t really equal to hanging out with him.

Jacob had given him such a profound look of disgust that he had barely managed to keep himself together until he got out, when he had burst to laughter so hard that it made his stomach hurt. He had laughed all the way to the cosmetics store where he had spent some money on the girliest pastel nail polishes he could find, adding a cool metallic one to his haul at the last minute. He made it a point to paint his nails and go order a coffee while noticeably flaunting his pastel-coloured fingernails.

The expression on Jacob’s face was worth all the extra time and money it took.

There were some other people who were clearly not happy with him either, but they made it less obvious, so he couldn’t bring himself to care. The rest of the Hogsmeade residents, however, didn’t seem fazed at all. Sirius tried to reconcile that with how he had seen people acting towards Remus the two times he had followed Remus after work and eventually came to the conclusion that the people who didn’t care had been on holiday and therefore not available to cushion the coldness of the few who had issues.

It was mid-September. Sirius had just tried on the metallic nail polish for the first time, very happy with the results, and was sitting in the staff room in the morning, waiting for work to start and texting James, when the door opened and Remus walked in.

“Oh, morning,” Remus said.

“Good morning,” Sirius said, completely unprepared to have any casual interaction with Remus.

Remus turned his back to Sirius and took off his jacket, which put Sirius a bit more at ease. Remus had probably not meant to come into the staff room while Sirius was there, but because he had also made sure not to openly seem like he was avoiding Sirius, he couldn’t turn around and leave once he was already in. Their dynamic hadn’t changed, then.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Remus said unexpectedly, turning to look at Sirius, jacket still in hand. “How come you’ve started painting your nails?”

Sirius chuckled nervously, immediately hating that he was so nervous to be talking to Remus, and said, “My barista seems to like it.”

Remus raised his brows – in surprise or in confusion, Sirius couldn’t tell. He wondered if he had been reading John wrong as well. Maybe that’s how they had ended up where they did: because Sirius thought that he understood John, or Remus, just by watching him, when in reality, he understood nothing.

“Your barista?” Remus asked, voice absolutely baffled.

“Oh yes,” Sirius said, his nerves taking a backseat now that he had a chance to complain. “A fun chap. Absolutely loves seeing me rub my homosexuality in his face by ordering coffee.”

“Oh, you mean Jacob,” Remus said and nodded. “I’ve stopped going in when he’s working. If I can avoid the disapproving glares, I will.”

“I think this is more fun,” Sirius said, lifting up a hand to show off his nails.

He wasn’t prepared to see the soft smile that appeared on Remus’s face.

“It suits you,” Remus said gently.

Sirius felt his cheeks heating up and hoped against hope that Remus would not notice. He carefully lowered his hand again, trying to make the movement appear nonchalant, but he wasn’t sure if he managed to keep up the illusion of not being nervous.

“Thanks,” he forced out, his voice too quiet to seem normal.

Remus smiled at him, then turned around again to hang up the jacket in his hands. Sirius couldn’t stop staring at him, unable to think of anything to say. He could hardly think in the first place.

Then Remus turned and looked around the room, biting his lip. Sirius quickly turned his gaze back to his phone as if he hadn’t just been staring. He threw quick glances at Remus, who was fidgeting with the left sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t looking directly at Sirius, but Sirius got the feeling that he wanted to say something.

He watched from the corner of his eye as Remus opened his mouth and closed it. Without a word, Remus headed out of the room.

Sirius could see that his ears were bright red.

*

It was getting close to the end of September when Sirius was reminded of Remus’s absence the previous month. Remus looked tired and talked snappily to Sirius, even though Sirius was quite sure he hadn’t given Remus any cause to be annoyed. But how could he really know; Remus had been unpredictable right from the start. In contrast, Remus was being politely distant with their other co-workers, but they also seemed to know not to try to engage him into a conversation.

As the afternoon progressed, Remus seemed more and more like he was hardly able to do his job.

“Are you okay?” Sirius finally asked.

“Fine,” Remus said irritably, then walked away.

Sirius wasn’t surprised when Remus didn’t show up to work the next day. What did surprise him, however, was that no one seemed to worry when he didn’t show up the following day either.

Sirius was sure that Remus had a reason other than the common cold to stay at home, and he couldn’t stop wondering what it was. It couldn’t have been very serious if Edgar, Molly and Caradoc all acted like nothing was wrong. But then again, maybe Molly and Caradoc didn’t know the truth? Sirius couldn’t imagine Edgar not knowing. Surely, Remus would have to disclose the real reason to his employer?

He tried looking up what could cause extreme tiredness and irritability but got no conclusive answers.

The next day, Remus was at work, and yet again, he looked awful, as if he hadn’t slept at all in days. He didn’t fall asleep during his lunch break, but Sirius thought that might have just been prevented by Caradoc having lunch at the same time as Remus. Remus didn’t talk to any of his co-workers unless it was absolutely necessary, and he actively avoided having to talk to any clients.

It was Thursday, so Remus left work early as usual. Sirius was starting to wonder about that too. He had noticed that on Thursdays, Remus headed to a different direction than when he was going home. Remus had been increasingly friendly with Sirius ever since they’d had their conversation about Sirius painting his nails, but Sirius didn’t think it made them close enough for him to start asking questions about Remus’s private life.

Sirius wondered if anyone knew. Remus didn’t seem like someone who wanted to discuss their personal issues with people. He appeared not to have any friends. It was, frankly, worrying Sirius.

He had noticed that Hogsmeade didn’t house many young people. The majority were middle-aged or older, and it seemed to Sirius that most people around their age had moved away. There wasn’t much of a nightlife, and Sirius figured that once he had gotten absolutely fed up with the local pub being full of elderly people, he would have to take the bus and go to a bigger town. If he did that, however, he’d have to find somewhere to stay the night, because the latest bus back to Hogsmeade arrived just around midnight.

He didn’t think that would be an issue to someone with his good looks.

“Hey, Remus,” he said, following Remus out of the library at the end of their workday on Friday. “Want to go out for a drink?”

Remus glanced at him and pursed his lips.

“You never give up, do you,” he said thoughtfully.

Sirius smirked.

“Come on, Remus,” he tried. “You’re the only one around my age I know. I’m so tired of all the elderly ladies cooing over how handsome I am.”

Remus snickered as he opened his bike’s lock.

“That’s partly why I don’t really go out,” he said. “So many elderly ladies who just love me.”

“Is it because everyone else in their early twenties moves out of Hogsmeade rather than in?” Sirius asked, following Remus, who started walking his bike.

Remus smiled, and it brought out the dimple in his left cheek.

“I guess?” he said. “In my case, I think it’s more that they’re trying to mother me.”

“Oh, right,” Sirius said.

He bit his lip and watched Remus from the corner of his eye. Remus didn’t seem bothered. He appeared quite serene walking his bike, even though he still looked noticeably tired. He was utterly handsome. Sirius listened to the whirr of his bike’s wheels as they walked.

“So,” Sirius then said slowly. “Was that a no to my invitation?”

Remus turned to look at him for a moment before turning away again.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I’m not coming out with you.”

“Okay,” Sirius said.

They walked in silence for a bit longer.

“Remus?” Sirius then asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

Sirius pushed his hands in his pockets and turned his head just enough to clearly see Remus.

“Do you want me to stop asking?” he asked then. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

Remus was quiet for a long time, and Sirius was already starting to wonder if he would end up following Remus all the way home, when Remus finally said, “No.”

“No… what?” Sirius asked, trying to read Remus’s face, but it wasn’t revealing much. “You don’t want me to stop asking? Or it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

Remus shrugged, then turned to flash him a mischievous smile and said, “I’m turning left here.”

“Oh,” Sirius said and stopped. Remus turned the corner to a different street. “Okay. See you on Monday?”

“See you,” Remus said, back turned to Sirius.

“Have a good weekend!” Sirius called after him.

Remus lifted his hand in recognition, then got onto his bike and rode away. Sirius watched him go until he disappeared from sight.

*

In October, Remus switched to working only three days a week, and Sirius had no idea why. No one mentioned it, and he was too keen on keeping Remus from shutting him out again to ask. Around mid-October, it no longer surprised him when Remus missed two days of work, then showed up on the third looking like he hadn’t slept in forever.

In November, Remus worked four days a week. Around mid-month, he didn’t come to work for an entire week. For the first time Sirius saw Edgar expressing concern over it, but in the end, he learned nothing.

He had continued asking Remus out after work every now and then. Remus seemed oddly delighted by it, even though he kept turning Sirius down. Sirius didn’t quite understand that either, and he found it amazing how Remus managed to keep him in the dark about his business so efficiently. Remus knew how to make it appear like he had told Sirius something, but then later Sirius would realise that he hadn’t actually learned anything new about Remus.

After months of knowing Remus, Sirius knew for certain that he didn’t really know Remus, that there was something wrong with him that he didn’t want to talk about, and that he was having a hard time living with the cold shoulder some people gave him. And that his parents were dead, but he didn’t know how or when it had happened. He could have looked it up but didn’t want to. It felt like looking it up would be an imposition.

It was late November when he finally learned something new about Remus.

The library was hosting a photography exhibition, and Edgar asked Sirius to help Remus put it up. Remus directed the entire thing, telling Sirius where to hang each photo, but it was only when Sirius was putting up the labels for them that he realised that a lot of them had been taken by Remus.

“I didn’t know you were into photography,” he commented.

Remus shrugged, focused on hanging up yet another photo.

“I’ve been into it since I was a kid,” he said, standing back to see if he was happy with the placement.

“I didn’t know that,” Sirius said.

Remus stopped and turned to glance at him before turning back to the photos.

“I wasn’t that into it back then,” he said. “I only started getting more serious a few years ago.”

“Oh, I see,” Sirius said.

He looked at the photos. He looked at Remus. Remus was focused on fixing the placement of two photos Sirius had put up according to his directions.

“You know,” Sirius said slowly. “I’ve been thinking of taking up painting. I just don’t really understand composition and framing and stuff. Do you have any tips?”

He bit his lip when Remus froze for just a fraction of a second before resuming what he had been doing. Sirius noticed tension forming in Remus’s jaw, but it disappeared as Remus seemed to come to a decision.

“I could show you some of my photos,” he said evenly and turned towards Sirius, but his face was back to revealing nothing. “I’m not an expert or anything, I don’t know the theory behind stuff, I just know what I think looks good.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, perking up. “Do you have… What kinds of photos do you usually take? Are these a good example of it?”

Remus crossed his arms and looked around the exhibition.

“These are…” he started, then took a moment to search for words. “I’m not usually this… I took these specifically for this exhibition. I don’t usually like such a…”

Remus waved a hand towards the photos without uncrossing his arms.

“They’re quite,” Sirius said slowly, “old-fashioned, I guess?”

Remus nodded. He gave Sirius a long hard look, his face revealing absolutely nothing as his eyes swept over Sirius. Then he said, “I have plenty of different photos at home.”

The way he stopped talking seemed abrupt and Sirius wondered if he had been meaning to say something more.

“Can I come see them?” Sirius asked, when Remus remained quiet.

Remus frowned softly and looked around.

“I’m not sure you want to be seen coming home with me,” he said, very quietly.

Sirius waved his hand.

“Everyone already knows me as the bloke who paints his nails,” he pointed out. “They’re already assuming I’m gay.”

Remus appeared to be at a loss for words. Sirius noticed that he was clutching his elbow so hard his knuckles were white. Then, he let go, uncrossed his arms, and turned away.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “After work?”

Sirius beamed and said, “After work.”

“Why are you doing this?” Remus asked then. Sirius opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but Remus seemed to have predicted that because he clarified, “Why are you trying to make friends with me?”

Sirius’s mouth remained open, but now it was because of shock.

“I,” he spluttered, searching for words. “Would you prefer I didn’t?”

Remus didn’t say anything. He seemed to be staring at a photo of a field of sunflowers. The silence stretched.

Before Sirius could think of anything to say, they were interrupted by footsteps. Edgar stopped next to Sirius and looked around them.

“Looks good,” he said. “Are they all up?”

“Yes,” Remus said.

He turned to stick the final labels onto the wall.

“Good job,” Edgar said. “Remus, may I have a word with you?”

Remus nodded. He followed Edgar without a glance towards Sirius.

Sirius, once again, found himself at a loss. He wasn’t sure if Remus had simply regretted inviting him over and had tried to discourage him or if… He wasn’t sure what else to think. Did Remus just not want to spend time with him outside of work? Not that he seemed to want to spend time with him at work either.

His head was still spinning at the end of the workday, and he wasn’t sure if he should wait for Remus or assume that Remus had changed his mind. Before he could quite decide, Remus showed up and nodded towards the door. Sirius followed him out.

It was drizzling, and Remus pulled up his hood. They got their bikes, and for the first time since that July four years ago, Sirius followed Remus because Remus had wanted him to. Or at least had allowed it; Sirius wasn’t quite so sure about the wanting.

“I need to get some groceries,” Remus said. “Is it okay if we stop on the way?”

“Sure,” Sirius said immediately. “I might get some myself. Not that I have much kitchenware yet.”

“What do you mean?” Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged and wished that Remus would look at him and smile like he used to.

“I didn’t really plan on moving here,” he said. “It was a spontaneous decision.”

“It was spontaneous months ago,” Remus pointed out.

Sirius chuckled and said, “Maybe I’m just not much of a cook.”

Remus snorted and shook his head.

They continued in amicable silence, until Sirius heard Remus mutter, “Why on earth would you want to move here?”

Sirius wasn’t sure if he had been meant to hear it. He wasn’t sure what to say to it anyway.

“I’m not so sure anymore,” he said truthfully.

Remus glanced at him but didn’t say anything. They continued in silence until they reached the grocery store. They locked their bikes before going in. Sirius wondered if there was a real chance that someone would steal either of them.

“Oh, hello, Remus dear,” said an elderly lady who had just been packing her groceries into a floral shopping bag. She was wearing a hairnet on her head. “You’re looking healthy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Figg,” Remus said and smiled sweetly. “You’re looking healthy yourself.”

Mrs. Figg smiled and turned her gaze at Sirius.

“And who is this young man?” she asked. “You seem familiar somehow.”

Sirius hesitated.

“He used to go to Hogwarts,” Remus said. “You’ve probably seen him running around causing a ruckus.”

Mrs. Figg looked long and hard at Sirius.

“Yes, I do think I remember you,” she said then. “You had much shorter hair back then, didn’t you? And always together with that other boy, what was his name? Potter, wasn’t it? So that makes you his friend, Black.”

Sirius nodded.

“How good to see you,” Mrs. Figg said and lifted her shopping bag. “You look very handsome with long hair, I must say. It’s easy to see you’ve got your life on track.”

Sirius didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled tightly and nodded.

“And you are friends with Remus?” Mrs. Figg asked as she started heading to the door. “Remus here is the sweetest boy in town. You couldn’t do better if you tried.”

Remus’s went red all the way down to his neck.

“I’ll see you boys around,” Mrs. Figg said and walked out.

Remus immediately turned towards the fruit section.

“I need some apples,” he mumbled and strode over to the bananas.

Sirius gave him time to gather himself. He trailed after Remus, a distance away until the blush had receded considerably. They made their way across the store, Remus picking up things he needed, Sirius picking up a bag of crisps and some apples.

“I thought everyone would have known about me by now,” he said quietly.

Remus shrugged and seemed to deliberate between two brands of pasta.

“She’s probably been away,” he said. “I haven’t seen her since early July, I think. She travels a lot.”

“I see,” Sirius said.

They made their way out of the store in silence. Sirius wasn’t sure if it was a comfortable silence for Remus, but for him it felt awkward. He wished that Remus would say something, but all he received was a quick smile before they were on their way again. Sirius rode behind Remus, looking at his dark blue backpack, wondering about the fact that he had never seen Remus wear a backpack when they were younger.

Remus stopped at the gate to a modest-looking bungalow that was surrounded by an overgrown garden. There were a couple of small apple trees to the side, but the yard wasn’t exactly big. There was a driveway but no car. The fence was dark wood and clearly old.

Remus led Sirius towards the house that was, by Sirius’s standards, quite small. If he thought about the other houses in Hogsmeade, he supposed it was medium-sized, but he also couldn’t understand how a full family could have ever fit into such a small house. Sirius looked around the yard as they went. It appeared as though no one had been taking care of it, but Sirius didn’t want to assume. Maybe it was Remus’s thing.

“Sorry for the mess,” Remus muttered as they went in.

Sirius took off his coat and looked around. The hallway didn’t seem particularly messy to him, and he couldn’t see much of the rest of the house, so he wasn’t sure why Remus was apologising.

“I keep my photos here,” Remus said and pointed to a door immediately to Sirius’s right.

Remus opened the door and led Sirius to a small storage room. There were stacks of books everywhere and shelves filled with labelled boxes. Sirius thought they may have been meant for Remus’s photos, but he didn’t want to seem like he was prying, so he didn’t get close enough to read what the labels said.

“Here,” Remus said, pointing towards a few piles of photos. “Those are some of my landscapes and portraits. You can give them a look. I’ll be right back.”

Remus left the room without waiting for an answer, leaving the door ajar. Sirius heard him walking around, then a door closed.

He turned his attention to the photographs. He wondered if Remus used a digital camera or if he had a film camera. Although, Sirius didn’t think there was anywhere nearby to get the film developed.

There were smaller photos but also two stacks of bigger photos. One of the stacks was A4, the other one was bigger. Sirius took a cursory look at the A4-sized photos first. They were mostly portraits of people, and after going through some of the stack, Sirius decided to go through the biggest photos first.

He flipped through the photographs. They were all gorgeous landscapes, some of them full of vibrant colours, some of them black and white. Then he flipped to a photo that made him pause.

It was a portrait of a young man in black and white. Technically, it was just like the other portraits Sirius had seen, but there was something about it that made him want to look at it more. The man had an ordinary face, an ordinary haircut, and as Sirius continued regarding the photo, he noticed that the man’s mouth was just a bit too wide for his features to be balanced. But the way the man looked into the camera made him stand out. Sirius couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something tender and heartfelt in the picture.

As he flipped to the next photo, he understood why.

The next photo was a full-body portrait, also done in black and white. The same young man was lying in bed, nude, his cock hard and his face sultry as one of his hands stroked himself. Sirius’s cheeks immediately heated up and he flipped to the next picture, which was also an erotic photograph of the same man. This one didn’t show his face, but Sirius recognised his body.

There were dozens of provocative photos of the same man, and Sirius’s face was burning but he couldn’t help wanting to see each one of them. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look, so he only threw quick glances at every photo, but even that was enough to tell him how much care had been put into each and every one of them, how much the person behind the camera wanted to capture those moments, this person, and the sexual energy that was oozing out of the pictures.

Sirius stopped when he found a photo that was also of the same man, also in nude, but his back was turned to the camera. He was looking over his shoulder, his face the image of peace, but there was still something sensual about the picture. Sirius thought it probably had something to do with the way the light was hitting his back.

The next picture was the same one, this time in colour. Sirius thought that he preferred this one with the way the man’s deep blue eyes were glittering in the light. He had ginger hair and his freckles were spread all over his body.

“Oh,” Remus said apprehensively as he stepped into the room. “I forgot those were there. Sorry.”

Sirius turned towards Remus, who approached him, took the photos from Sirius’s hands and turned to stuff them into a box. His ears were red.

“They’re gorgeous,” Sirius said.

Remus froze for just a beat, then continued pushing the box into a shelf, but his shoulders were stiff.

“Was,” Sirius started, then wasn’t sure if he was even allowed to ask. He didn’t think Remus wanted him to ask, but if he didn’t, his need to know the answer would consume him. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Remus finished with the box and let his hand slide down its side. He wasn’t looking at Sirius.

“He was,” Remus said quietly. “We got careless and were caught kissing behind the pub. He couldn’t take the heat, so he moved away.”

“Oh,” was all Sirius could say.

“I probably would have moved too,” Remus said, still speaking quietly, “but I had this house, and it’s… It would be hard to sell, and whatever money that would make me wouldn’t be enough to afford something even decent in a bigger town.”

“I guess so,” Sirius said.

Remus had his head turned down, eyes focused on the box where he had hidden the photos. His blush had spread all the way down to his neck.

“Those photos were really good,” Sirius said, surprising even himself. “It shows that you cared about him a lot.”

Remus shrugged and turned his head so Sirius could no longer see his face. Sirius wondered if he should have pretended that he only saw the one picture Remus had seen him looking at.

“Thank you,” Remus then said, voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius hesitated for a moment, but then couldn’t contain himself and asked, “When did it happen? When did he move away?”

Remus shrugged and said, “A couple of years ago.”

“Oh,” was all Sirius could think to say.

Suddenly, some things he hadn’t understood about Remus were starting to make more sense.

“Remus?” he asked cautiously, keeping an eye on Remus’s stiff shoulders. “Was it… I mean… I just… I’m not sure how to put this delicately.”

Remus chuckled and turned to look at Sirius. His blush had mostly receded, but his ears were still red.

“I didn’t think you cared about delicacy,” he said.

“I just don’t want to offend you,” Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know everyone’s experience is different.”

“I’ll try not to be offended, then,” Remus said.

Sirius hesitated for a moment longer before he said, “I’ve just been wondering, because you made it sound like people are really homophobic around here, but that’s not… That doesn’t match what I’ve seen. I mean, there are the few who are bad about it, but I think mostly people are… if not exactly accepting, at least mostly okay? But I’m not… It could be that they just don’t think I’m gay or something.”

Remus smirked lopsidedly, and it was the cutest thing Sirius had seen his face do.

“People definitely think you’re gay,” Remus said. “It’s… It’s a small-town thing, you know? Everyone knows everyone else’s business and rumours spread like wildfire. Even if it’s just you painting your nails to piss off Jacob, he’s bound to talk about it with people, and then they’re going to talk about it with other people. By now, I’m sure most people know you as the second gay man in Hogsmeade.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. “But I still don’t really understand why you… I mean, you felt the need to warn me about it, and I’m a bit confused.”

Remus sighed and leaned against the shelf behind him, arms crossed again, but there was a certain openness in his face.

“First,” Remus said, “I didn’t know you were gay. And I… Well, no offence, but I kind of thought you… Well, I thought you would prefer people not think you’re gay because you’re not. But even… After you told me, it’s still…”

Remus glanced at the box where he had stuffed the photos of his former boyfriend. Sirius wondered what Remus had stopped himself from saying, if he thought it might offend Sirius.

“Like I said,” Remus said, “it’s a small-town thing that everyone knows your business, and it’s hard to keep things hidden. And even if they’re not hateful about it, it can get to be too much. And for Benjy, it was too much. He just… I mean, it wasn’t the only reason, but… It’s…”

Remus’s voice trailed off. Sirius waited, wondering if he should say something, but then Remus sighed deeply and continued.

“I’m not saying I enjoy it,” he said. “I don’t. He had the means to leave and go live somewhere where people aren’t constantly breathing down your neck and asking you about how your relationship is going when it’s really none of their business, you know? It’s just the knowledge that they’re always talking behind your back, and I… I know what it’s like.”

“And you wanted to save me from it?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded.

“Oh, well,” Sirius said. “Thank you.”

Remus gave him a wry smile and said, “You do realise that they’re already talking about how you went home with me?”

Sirius snorted.

“Who cares,” he said, then hesitated as something dawned on him. “Unless you care. Then I guess I could very loudly pronounce that I go to the bigger towns for physical relations.”

Remus’s expression was an odd mix of amusement, bemusement, and utter disbelief. Sirius laughed.

“That’s,” Remus said weakly. “That’s okay. Not necessary. I’m okay.”

“Good,” Sirius said, and the smile on his face was big and bright. “Now, will you show me some of your favourite photos?”

Remus took a moment longer to look at him, then pushed himself away from the shelf and proceeded to show Sirius some spectacular photos.

Sirius was, however, almost disappointed that there were no more erotic pictures.


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius hadn’t lied when he’d told Remus that he was interested in painting; he had occasionally thought that learning to paint might be interesting, but those thoughts had been so fleeting he had never done anything to make them a reality. He also hadn’t lied when he’d told Remus that he didn’t understand composition and such; even though he’d been drawing for years, he didn’t know the theory behind why certain things looked good and other things didn’t.

Now, he found himself heading back home from the neighbouring town after he had gone there to spend some money on painting supplies. The woman at the store had recommended he try acrylic because it was a relatively straight-forward medium, and he had decided to go with that. Back at home, he had searched for videos on acrylic painting, and he was pleased to find that it didn’t seem too daunting.

When he mentioned to Remus that he had tried out a few things in acrylic, Remus gave him a long searching look before saying, "I didn’t think you’d actually start painting.”

For a long time, Sirius didn’t know what to say.

“But,” he finally spluttered. “But you… Then why did you agree to show me your photos?”

Remus gave him a smile that had to be the sweetest one he had received so far.

“Did you forget that we used to be friends?” Remus asked. “I know you liked drawing. You have drawn in front of me. I have seen your drawings. And even back then they were very good. I know you know exactly how to frame a picture.”

“Then why?” Sirius asked, more quietly.

Remus cocked his head, a smile still splayed over his face.

“I figured,” he said, “you’ve been trying so hard since the beginning, that maybe it was time I cut you some slack. I didn’t think you would actually be so interested in my photos.”

Sirius’s jaw dropped. He, once again, had no idea what to say.

“You know,” Remus said slowly, “I still have that portrait you drew of me.”

He turned to the pile of books he had been going through. Sirius could only stare.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing how your style has developed,” Remus said, not turning to look at Sirius. “If you’ve still been drawing actively, that is.”

“Uh huh,” Sirius managed before finally closing his useless mouth.

Their conversation was brought to an end by Caradoc, who requested Sirius’s help. Sirius spent the rest of the day wondering what Remus had expected from him when they had gone to Remus’s.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

If Remus had thought that Sirius wasn’t genuinely interested in seeing his photos, why had he agreed to bring Sirius over? What had he expected instead?

Did Remus want to rekindle their old friendship? Did Remus want to try a relationship with Sirius? Was that his odd way of flirting?

… Had Remus been flirting with him?

Sirius found everything about Remus so confusing that he couldn’t tell. The one thing that no longer confused him was Remus’s worry over the homophobia, but everything else was just as unclear as it used to be. He had noticed Remus sometimes watching him, but Remus was also very good at hiding it, so he couldn’t tell how often Remus really paid attention to him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that every time he had noticed Remus looking, it had happened because Remus allowed it to happen.

It was a few days after their conversation when Remus nonchalantly asked, “Can I take a picture of you?” while piling books into the trolley.

Sirius dropped the book he had been handing to Remus. It fell loudly onto the floor. Remus looked down at it, then at Sirius and raised his brows.

“Careful with the books,” he said, and bent down to pick it up.

Sirius couldn’t help thinking about the photos of Remus’s ex-boyfriend – Benjy, was it? He felt a twitch in his groin and tried to distract himself by thinking of literally anything else. His eyes wandered around until Remus cleared his throat. Sirius looked at him.

“Yes,” he said, before Remus had time to say whatever it was he had clearly been going to say. Probably something about changing his mind.

Remus seemed surprised for a moment, then smiled.

“Nice,” he said, then turned towards the books again. His ears were getting red. “Are you free today?”

“Yes,” Sirius said immediately.

“Cool,” Remus said, head still turned away, but Sirius could see how red his cheeks were too. “After work, then?”

“Yeah, after work,” Sirius agreed.

He spent the rest of the day trying not to think about the pictures of Benjy.

He had no reason to think about them in the first place, because surely Remus didn’t mean those kinds of photos. He had also taken plenty of portraits of people who were fully dressed and not aroused in the least and not looking into the camera as if they wanted to eat the person behind it. Remus wanted that kind of a photo, surely.

But he couldn’t help thinking about Remus telling him that he had been surprised when Sirius had genuinely wanted to see his photos. What had Remus expected?

Sirius was feeling rather anxious by the time work ended and he and Remus headed out. It was cold and wet, but it wasn’t raining at the moment. They rode their bikes in silence, and Sirius wondered if Remus was as nervous as he was.

But Remus at least knew what it was he was trying to achieve by inviting Sirius over for a photo session. Remus knew what he meant by it.

Sirius would only have to wait and see.

Granted, he had only visited Remus once, but he was certain that this time it took them far longer to get there. Everything moved slowly, until they got inside, and then everything seemed to move too fast.

Sirius had hardly taken off his coat and shoes when Remus was already guiding him to the living room. He looked around in curiosity, as the last time he had visited, he hadn’t really seen anything except the storage room and the photos in it.

“Sorry about the mess,” Remus said.

Again, Sirius wasn’t sure what mess he was referring to.

There were piles of books all over the place, but that didn’t count as a mess, did it? Sirius also noted stacks of papers and some cardboard boxes in the corner, but he wouldn’t have called it messy. Disorganised at worst, but then, he was sure that Remus knew exactly what was where.

He wondered if a lot of the things around had belonged to Remus’s parents, but he didn’t want to ask and bring down the mood.

Remus had Sirius sit on the sofa. There was a fancy-looking digital camera on the side table, and Remus picked it up.

“I’m not sure what I want exactly,” Remus said as he fiddled with the camera. “I want it to capture your personality, but I also realise that I’m maybe no longer an expert on what your personality really is.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of it by now,” Sirius said, watching Remus and feeling thankful that he hadn’t asked Remus to teach him to take photos; cameras were frighteningly complicated.

Remus smiled, but it was aimed at his camera.

“It’s honestly surprising,” he said without looking up, “how you are still so similar but also completely different.”

“Oh?” Sirius asked, fascinated by watching Remus’s hands as they handled the camera so confidently. “Hopefully I’ve only kept the good parts, whatever those might have been.”

Remus glanced at him before turning to his camera again.

“You had plenty of good qualities back then,” he said softly. Then he turned to thoughtfully look at the window on Sirius’s left and said, “You should turn towards the window.”

Sirius followed Remus’s instructions, and once Remus was happy, he started shooting. He kept adjusting Sirius in small ways, trying different distances, adding a lamp as a light source, and Sirius found it all somewhat overwhelming. He didn’t understand why, because he liked being looked at; he knew he was handsome, and he was used to people noticing it and paying attention to him, but there was something about the situation that made it feel more intimate.

It must have been the way Remus looked at his camera, how he looked at Sirius through that camera, and Sirius had no idea what it was that he saw.

“That’s not working,” Remus mumbled, then turned to look at Sirius rather than the camera and said more loudly, “You seem tense. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Sirius said, shrugged and smiled, but he was sure it didn’t come off quite as nonchalant as he would have liked.

Remus frowned and pursed his lips, and the setting sun was hitting his face at an angle and he looked very cute.

Sirius turned to gaze out the window. It was facing the back garden, which didn’t seem to differ much from the front garden. It must have been difficult for Remus to upkeep an entire house with a full yard all by himself, especially because he was also ill.

He heard the camera shutter and turned to look at Remus, who was looking at his camera again.

“That was better,” Remus said, although Sirius wasn’t quite sure if he was talking to himself or to Sirius. “I liked that. You looked much more relaxed.”

“Oh?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. He glanced up from the camera and smiled as he said, “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be camera shy.”

Sirius’s cheeks warmed up.

“I’m not really,” he said and turned his head away.

“It’s a bit like when people compliment you,” Remus said, looking at his camera again, “you can’t deal with it. I’ve noticed it happen when some of your old teachers come in or when Edgar praises your work. You look like you don’t know how to handle it.”

“Do I?” Sirius asked weakly.

“Yes,” Remus said and turned to Sirius, who was still looking away. “That certainly never would have happened back then.”

“Back then, I was still a Black,” Sirius said quietly. “It didn’t matter what people thought about me.”

“But now it does?” Remus asked.

Sirius said nothing, but he knew Remus understood anyway. He heard the camera shutter again.

“Just forget I’m even here,” Remus said, moving in Sirius’s peripheral vision.

It was easier said than done, Sirius thought as he tried to forget that Remus was taking his picture.

“I think,” Remus said, and his voice was much closer than it had been.

Sirius turned towards Remus and watched as Remus slowly reached out a hand to push some of Sirius’s hair behind his ear.

“That looks good,” Remus said.

Sirius glanced up. Their eyes met, and Sirius felt like it was the first time they had looked at each other properly without one or both of them immediately turning away.

Remus’s hand was still hovering by Sirius’s ear. His face was neutral but soft. Sirius recognised the expression, because he had seen Remus look at him that way many times before, although years earlier. Back then, he had interpreted it as an expression of friendship, because they were friends and they cared about each other, but now Sirius knew that it was an expression of wanting something Remus wasn’t sure he was allowed to have.

Sirius lifted his hand up and touched Remus’s hand. He pressed Remus’s palm against his burning cheek. Remus’s eyes didn’t turn away. They were so obviously full of yearning that Sirius thought he must have been truly blind to have missed it, even granted the naïveté of his younger days.

It must have been Remus, who leaned in first, because he had been standing and Sirius had been sitting, but Sirius couldn’t be sure. What he was sure of was that one moment, they were looking at each other, and the next, they were kissing.

Remus’s lips were just as soft as Sirius had imagined. Remus’s hand against his cheek was big and warm, and Sirius couldn’t believe that he was kissing Remus, he was finally kissing Remus, he was allowed to kiss Remus. Remus licked over Sirius’s lips and Sirius opened his mouth, and the tip of Remus’s tongue moved teasingly over Sirius’s teeth and the inside of his lips.

Sirius felt like he was melting into the sofa and he vaguely wondered where the camera had gone. Remus climbed onto the sofa too, straddling Sirius, and the way their thighs pressed together sent heat straight to Sirius’s groin.

Remus sank his fingers into Sirius’s hair, combing through it, and just when Sirius was thinking of pushing his tongue inside Remus’s mouth, Remus finally licked his way in properly, tongue pressing against tongue, and Sirius felt his brain going offline.

Remus was pressing closer against him, closer, closer, and they were already wrapped around each other, Remus’s tongue in Sirius’s mouth, and Sirius groaned, one hand still holding Remus’s against his cheek, and his free hand roaming over Remus’s body.

Remus’s jumper was soft. Sirius slipped his hand under it, meeting yet another shirt, and he pulled at it until it slipped out of Remus’s trousers and he could push his hand underneath, against his skin. Remus’s skin was warm, and Sirius’s cock was quickly getting hard.

He let go of Remus’s hand to use both his own hands to pull Remus closer. Their groins pressed together, and Sirius was delighted to discover that Remus was hard. Remus’s back was slim in his hands, and he wanted everything Remus would give him, he wanted to touch Remus everywhere, taste his skin, and Remus was pressed so close to him it felt heavy.

Remus started opening the buttons to Sirius’s cardigan, fingers exact and efficient, and it made Sirius vaguely wonder if Remus had opened many buttoned tops before. Then Remus’s hands spread over Sirius’s chest and stomach, and he wasn’t thinking anything other than marvelling at that, at Remus’s warmth and the way the tips of his fingers were slipping under the waistband of Sirius’s trousers.

Remus pushed the cardigan off Sirius’s shoulders, then pulled on the hem of his T-shirt until Sirius pulled back to struggle out of it, immediately starting to pull off Remus’s shirts too, both at the same time, eager to feel skin against his own.

Remus’s hair was dishevelled as Sirius threw the shirts onto the floor, and Sirius combed his fingers through it to push it back from Remus’s face. Remus looked at him, eyes filled with want, and Sirius pulled him closer again, so their bare chests were pressed together. Remus kissed him.

Remus’s hands were big, and feeling them on his skin made Sirius shiver with arousal. His own hands were travelling down Remus’s back, pushing under his trousers and pants to feel his arse. Remus moaned loudly into their kiss when Sirius spread his fingers over Remus’s supple cheeks and pulled his hips closer.

If Remus wanted nothing more, Sirius would have been perfectly happy to sit there kissing and touching just like that. Remus, however, seemed to want more, one of his hands continuously low on Sirius’s hips, fingertips brushing over the length of Sirius’s erection over his jeans, and Sirius whined. Remus smirked into their kiss, and Sirius wasn’t sure if he was more frustrated or delighted to discover this teasing side of Remus.

Sirius threw his head back with a moan when Remus kept toying with him.

“Remus,” he groaned, and got a mischievous chuckle in response.

“What?” Remus asked, his voice airy, his breath hot on Sirius’s ear.

Remus’s fingers trailed over Sirius’s cock, the touch barely there, and Sirius’s hips twitched.

“Please,” Sirius whined. “Don’t tease.”

“But you look so good when I tease,” Remus countered.

He pressed his lips onto Sirius’s exposed neck and Sirius groaned again, splaying his hands over Remus’s arse before sliding one of them to the front, rubbing over Remus’s erection. Remus gave a pleased hum and licked his way up Sirius’s neck. His hand – finally, finally! – pressed firmly against Sirius’s cock, and he didn’t pull away when Sirius rolled his hips against the touch.

“Fuck, fuck, Remus,” Sirius mumbled, and he felt how Remus smiled against his neck. “I want to suck you. Please?”

Remus hummed again, rolled his hips against Sirius’s, and suckled on Sirius’s earlobe before whispering, “How could I say no to that?”

Sirius grabbed a handful of Remus’s hair to pull him into a kiss, before he rolled Remus to the side and slid onto the floor, settling between Remus’s legs.

“Fuck,” Remus breathed out, hands finding Sirius’s hair and combing through it several times.

Sirius went for the button of Remus’s corduroys and undressed Remus just enough for his cock to spring up freely. Remus let go of Sirius’s hair to push his trousers and pants further down, and Sirius had to back away to let him take them off completely. He helped pull them off his feet, then settled back between Remus’s bare legs.

Sirius slid his hands up Remus’s hairy thighs, pressing his thumbs into the soft skin, wishing that he had the patience to spend time on them, lavish them with kisses, but he couldn’t help focusing on Remus’s cock instead. It was hard, long, and perfect, and Sirius needed it in his mouth immediately.

Sirius took a hold of Remus’s hips with both hands, then licked his way up the length of Remus’s cock from base to tip. Remus sighed and twisted his fingers into Sirius’s hair, not guiding, just holding. Sirius was hopeful that Remus would eventually pull.

Sirius spent a moment focusing on the tip, licking a bead of pre-come into his mouth with a grin, and Remus groaned. Sirius gently pulled the foreskin back and suckled on the tip, rejoicing when Remus squirmed, breath hitching and fingers tightening in Sirius’s hair.

Sirius didn’t want to tease – mostly because he was so aroused himself that he couldn’t wait to get to a point when Remus might do something about it – so he eventually let Remus’s cock sink deeper into his mouth. The way Remus moaned was absolutely filthy, and Sirius was sure he was going to remember it for a long time, he was going to replay it in his head every time he wanked from now on.

Everything felt surreal in a way; Sirius hadn’t had any idea that Remus wanted anything from him, yet he now had Remus’s cock in his mouth, and he was working up to taking it down his throat. He couldn’t believe he was allowed to have this, that Remus had allowed him to taste him. The weight of Remus’s cock felt good in his mouth, on his tongue, and he was looking up to Remus, who had thrown his head back, the enticing line of his neck bare to the world.

Remus’s thighs twitched, and Sirius felt like he was in heaven when Remus’s hold of his hair finally tightened enough to be a pull. Sirius moaned, which caused Remus to arch his back.

It didn’t take long before Remus started frantically tugging on Sirius’s hair.

“Fuck, Sirius,” he managed between pants. “I’m close, I’m so close.”

Sirius hummed and took him in deeper.

Remus came with a hoarse cry, pulling on Sirius’s hair, and Sirius was very close himself as he swallowed Remus’s come, every drop of it. Remus’s hold of his hair loosened, and Remus petted his head before pulling his hand away completely. Sirius licked Remus’s cock clean before pulling back and looking up at him.

“Fuck,” Remus whispered. “Fuck, you look good.”

Remus stroked his hair again, and Sirius stupidly felt like a happy dog. Remus was watching him, and it made him feel good, like he had done something right, like he had been good.

“Get up,” Remus said softly and shifted on the sofa.

Sirius climbed onto the sofa, revelling in the fact that he could taste Remus in his mouth. Remus pulled him into a messy kiss, hand in Sirius’s hair again, and Sirius could get used to it, he could get used to this: Remus’s closeness and want and need.

Remus put his hand on Sirius’s aching cock, and Sirius tried to roll his hips against it, but Remus pulled away.

“No,” Remus said, still breathless. “I want to taste you too.”

Sirius whined and Remus chuckled, the smile on his face radiant, and Sirius wanted to see that smile more often, every day, again and again. He was sure he would never tire of it.

Remus gave him a quick kiss before opening his trousers and pulling them down with his pants, and Sirius was so, so hard. Remus trailed a soft fingertip over the length of Sirius’s cock, and Sirius tried to buck into it.

Remus shifted on the sofa, and Sirius settled into a better position himself, one leg pressed against the backrest and one foot on the floor.

Having Remus go down on him was exquisite. Sirius knew it wasn’t going to take long: he was completely overwhelmed by the feel of Remus’s lips and tongue on him. Remus had his eyes closed and Sirius found himself wishing he would look up, look at Sirius. Sirius pushed Remus’s hair off his forehead to properly see his face, but Remus’s eyes remained closed.

When Sirius came into Remus’s mouth, he was feeling an odd mix of emotions that he didn’t particularly want to dig into. He was relieved, blissful, thankful, and even hopeful that it would happen again in the future, but he was also confused, something about the way Remus didn’t look at him made him feel rejected, and he didn’t like it. It was a cold pit in his core, and that wasn’t supposed to be there when he had just had great sex.

He slumped against the sofa and Remus sat up, eyes open, and the tip of his tongue peeked from between his lips as he licked a bead of come from the corner of his mouth.

“Can I take a picture of you?” he asked.

Sirius hadn’t expected that, but he immediately said, “Yes.”

Remus’s eyes on him were like a caress, and Sirius couldn’t stop looking, couldn’t stop looking at Remus’s face. He hardly even noticed there was a camera between them, even when Remus turned his eyes away from him to look at the camera, he was still watching Remus, just Remus and the way the last rays of the setting sun made his hair shine and his skin glow.

“Perfect,” Remus muttered.

Sirius wondered if he meant the picture or Sirius.

His breathing had evened out, and he closed his eyes, trying to force away the odd pit in his core that had stuck there and wouldn’t leave. He didn’t understand what it meant. He knew that he had felt something similar before, he just couldn’t remember when and why.

He must have drifted off, because the next time he became aware of his surroundings, Remus was lying on top of him, stroking the side of his head.

He opened his eyes and Remus smiled at him.

“Your smile is beautiful,” Sirius said out loud because it was a fact that needed to be noted.

Remus’s smile widened, the dimple on his left cheek now prominent, and Sirius lifted up his hand to touch it.

“Hi,” Remus said, and his eyes were shining like the sun.

“Hi,” Sirius said and cupped Remus’s cheek in his hand. “Do you do this with all of your models?”

Remus laughed and leaned his head into Sirius’s touch.

“Only the hot ones,” he said, his smile remaining wide and bright.

Sirius’s heart did something funny when Remus so openly called him hot.

“And I only allow hot photographers to take nude pictures of me,” Sirius said and smiled when Remus laughed happily.

They were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other, faces so close together that Sirius could feel Remus’s breath on his skin. Remus’s eyes were open and lively.

“I didn’t plan this,” Remus then said, smiling less brightly.

“What?” Sirius asked sarcastically. “You didn’t ask me here to shag me?”

Remus nodded. The movement dislodged some of his curls and they fell onto his forehead. Sirius combed them back with his fingers.

“I didn’t think you did,” he said then. “I did think you genuinely wanted a photo.”

“Good,” Remus said, and his smile was less burdened again.

They lay there together, softly touching each other, until Remus shivered in cold.

Putting on clothes shifted something in Remus. He went quiet and would no longer look at Sirius. He seemed troubled and uncomfortable, constantly on the verge of saying something but then either not daring or not knowing what to say.

After watching it for a moment, Sirius stood up and exaggeratedly stretched his arms.

“I think I should head home,” he said. “I’m getting hungry.”

“Okay,” Remus said immediately, face still turned away.

“Will you show me the best photos when you’re ready with them?” Sirius asked, already heading towards the hallway.

“Sure,” Remus said, eyes focused on the dark window.

It almost appeared that Remus had forgotten that Sirius was still there.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, yeah?” Sirius said at the doorway.

Remus nodded and pulled his feet up to the sofa, his torso disappearing behind his legs. Sirius looked at him for a beat, then went to the hallway, got dressed, and turned to leave. He stopped at the door, hand already on the doorknob.

“Bye, Remus,” he said loudly enough to be heard in the living room.

There was no response.

Sirius went out. The wind had picked up, but it still wasn’t raining. Sirius hoped that he could make it home dry.

He could still taste Remus’s come in his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

A part of Sirius was not the least bit surprised when Remus didn’t show up to work the next day. A part of him refused to think that it was because of him. Yet another part of him reminded him that Remus had his mystery illness and it might have been a coincidence.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Remus, though, wondering about what had happened after the sex: the way Remus had completely withdrawn into himself as if deeply regretting letting Sirius in at all. But it hadn’t been an immediate reaction. Had Remus just been still coming down from his orgasm until they got dressed? Was there something Sirius could have done to stop it from happening?

Should he have stopped Remus from kissing him? From taking it further than just kissing?

What if it had been Remus’s first time doing something that they did?

Sirius discarded that thought almost immediately. He had a hard time believing that it might have been Remus’s first time sucking dick because Remus had been so good at it. Not to mention, he had enthusiastically requested it. He also didn’t think it believable that it might have been the first time Remus was given head.

The entire day went by in a blur of thoughts and clients and countless books, and Sirius was annoyed at himself for not having asked Remus for his number while they had been friendly and talking.

After work, Sirius considered going to Remus’s to ask if he was okay. He didn’t think Remus would appreciate it, however, so instead, he went home and decided to call James to have someone to talk to.

Rather than tell him about Remus, Sirius let James lead the conversation to topics he could never have predicted.

It only helped him get his mind off Remus for a while, though, and Sirius slept poorly because he couldn’t stop worrying that he had done something wrong.

He turned on the lights and took out his sketchbook with plain dark green covers. When he had been packing his things before moving to Hogsmeade, he had contemplated leaving the book behind, but a part of him had been too paranoid to do that; what if someone found it in his room?

Apparently, it had been a good decision to take it with him, as he now opened it and started drawing. He just needed that one drawing, then he would be calm and then he could sleep.

It didn’t help, and he lay back in bed staring at the wall.

Very early in the morning, a sentence he had heard four years ago drifted to his consciousness.

_You don’t deserve me._

Had he been a disappointment? Did Remus want better?

When Sirius looked at his life, he couldn’t tell what other people saw. He had been brought up to believe what his parents had believed, and Remus had been the person who had opened his eyes for the first time to how the majority of people lived: not attending fancy boarding schools, no big mansions, no expendable income. Remus had been his first touch to a person outside of his circle of rich family, rich friends, and rich acquaintances. Remus had taught him a lot about how people normally lived.

But Sirius still saw himself through the lens of his parents. He couldn’t tell if his life was successful or not, because he didn’t have so much money he never needed to think about it. Quite on the contrary, he had limited funds, and they were all his own earnings. He had earned the money he spent to keep living, but if he didn’t have the Potters, he would have nothing to fall on in case he lost his job or something unexpected happened.

Was that success? Was he doing it right? Was this how people were supposed to live?

His parents had expected him to become a businessman, although he wasn’t sure what they had wanted him to do exactly. Something that paid a ludicrous sum, undoubtedly. Hogwarts had been meant to be his stepping stone to success, which had undoubtedly meant a high-paying job.

Had he failed, then?

He was a librarian.

The Potters had always been encouraging, no matter what Sirius wanted to do. They had helped him figure out how to move on after his parents threw him out, they had supported him when he had told them that he wanted to make his own way in life by finding a job he could do, earning his own money to stand on his own feet rather than have their financial support. He knew that they could have afforded it, but it had always felt wrong.

They weren’t his real parents. They were James’s parents.

And James wasn’t his real brother.

And no matter how hard he wanted them to be his real family, they would never be that.

He thought about Regulus. He hadn’t seen his brother since he left Hogwarts for the last time. He wondered if their parents had already lined up a prestigious job somewhere for Regulus, just waiting for him once he completed uni.

Regulus surely had everything that their parents had wanted for Sirius.

Sirius was left with nothing, or at any rate, none of the things he had been raised to value: no money, no family, no name.

No wonder Remus didn’t want him.

He wasn’t sure at what point he had managed to fall asleep, but he jolted awake when his alarm went off. It was still dark. He wanted to go back to sleep. He had never wanted to go back to sleep so badly.

Instead, he dragged himself out of bed, dragged himself to work, and dragged himself through the workday. Caradoc was giving him worried looks, but he was too tired to try to convince him that he was fine. Remus was still absent.

Two hours before the end of Sirius’s shift, Edgar appeared from behind a bookshelf and gave him a long searching look.

“You should go home for the day,” Edgar said. “You look like you need sleep.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said and rubbed his tired eyes. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“That’s understandable,” Edgar said. “It happens. Just go home, get some sleep, and have a new try tomorrow, right? You did a good job today.”

Sirius looked at him, gave him a strained smile, and hurried to the staffroom before he would burst to tears.

He hated it.

He hated how much he needed to be told that what he was doing was good, that he was good, that he was doing things right. He hated how hearing it tore up something inside him, and he hated how it was much harder to control his emotions when he was so tired.

He rubbed his eyes roughly before putting on his coat and heading out. It looked like it would be raining soon. He opened his bike’s lock to hurry home, but at the last moment, turned towards Remus’s place instead.

He rode in blissful silence, forcing his thoughts to halt and focus on steering his bike forward without incident. He focused on the sting of cold air on his cheeks. He focused on pedalling.

He arrived at Remus’s house too soon.

He hesitated, but then pushed on. He was tired enough to keep his inhibitions low, tired enough to stop thinking and just do, and he rang the doorbell, listened, waited.

He was genuinely surprised when the door opened.

Remus seemed genuinely surprised as well. He gave Sirius a wide-eyed look.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Remus asked.

Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off Remus. As usual, he looked very tired – although now also astounded – but on top of that, his hair was greasy, and he was wearing what Sirius suspected were the clothes he wore to bed.

“I was worried about you,” Sirius blurted out. His cheeks burned when he added, “I mean, I wasn’t at my best today, so Edgar sent me home.”

“Uh huh,” Remus responded, starting to get over his initial surprise.

Remus glanced around and crossed his arms.

“Can I come in?” Sirius asked.

Remus stood still for a long time, head turned down. Then, without a word, he stepped back. He didn’t shut the door, so Sirius assumed it was an invitation, and he cautiously stepped in.

The last time he had visited, the door to the kitchen had been closed. Now, as Remus led him past it, he glanced in and saw that the sink was full of dirty dishes and there was a mountain of cardboard packaging on the counter. There was hardly any counter space left, he noted, because there were more dishes under all the cardboard.

He followed Remus, who went to what Sirius assumed was his bedroom. It was a nice room: quite small, but homely. Remus sat down on his bed and wrapped his blanket around his shoulders. There was a telly that was on, but it was on mute. Remus’s nightstand didn’t have much on it, just an alarm clock and a small collection of books. His desk, however, was covered with papers and books and a pile of what appeared to be assorted trash. Sirius noted that the bin under the desk was filled to the brim.

Sirius sat down on the foot of the bed, trying to look like he hadn’t been taking in the mess. There were photos on the wall, and Sirius thought they might have been Remus’s own.

“How are you?” he asked and turned to Remus, who was crouched under his blanket so that only his head and the tips of his toes were visible.

Remus shrugged and quietly said, “Fine.”

“Fine,” Sirius asked slowly, “as in it’s normal for the days when you don’t make it to work?”

Remus shrugged again and leaned his chin on his blanket-covered knee.

“Well,” Sirius said, “that’s good.”

Remus said nothing. Sirius felt odd. He turned to look at his own hands.

“I wanted to ask you,” he said at his hands. “I… Are you okay? I mean, about us? Are you fine with what happened?”

He turned his head enough to see Remus. Remus rested his cheek on his knee. The look in his eyes was distant, just like it had been the other day when he had shut off.

“I just,” Sirius said. “I’m worried, yeah? Like, did I do something wrong? Did I… Did I read you wrong? Did you not want it to happen?”

“No,” Remus said immediately, and Sirius’s stomach plummeted before Remus continued, “you did nothing wrong. It was fine. It’s not your fault.”

Sirius found his hands shaking so he pressed them together and slipped them between his knees.

“Okay,” he said and let his eyes roam the room for a moment. “Are you… Do you not want it to happen again?”

Remus looked at him warily as he said, “Not really, no.”

His voice had been quiet, but it seemed to echo in the room. Sirius licked his lips nervously.

“Why not?” he asked.

Remus looked openly frustrated.

“Because you don’t deserve me,” he said, voice loud but lacking the sharpness Sirius would have expected. It didn’t make the words hurt any less.

“What do you want from me, Remus?” Sirius asked in return, some of his desperation straining his voice. “What do I need to do to be worthy of you?”

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it. His frustrated frown morphed into a confused one, eyes focused on Sirius’s face as he took in the way Sirius looked. Sirius expected that his face was as exasperated as his voice had been.

Rather than react in anger like he had all those years earlier, he had now reacted with hurt, and he was sure it showed on his face. It was good if it showed on his face. He no longer wanted to hide his feelings. He was different from the person he used to be.

And he was too tired to hide anything.

“What do you mean?” Remus finally asked and lifted his head up. “How do you… Where did that come from? What… How did you take that as me telling you you’re not worthy?”

Sirius was gaping at Remus. He repeated Remus’s words in his head. Remus had definitely said that Sirius didn’t deserve him.

“You said,” he said, and his voice faltered. “You said I don’t deserve you.”

“Well, you don’t,” Remus said. “How could I ever wish myself upon you? You deserve someone who’s… who isn’t like this.”

Understanding was slowly dawning on Sirius. He closely watched Remus, who had turned to look away, chin resting on his knee again, biting his lower lip, a pained expression on his face.

Suddenly, it was all becoming clear. Suddenly, Sirius saw some of himself in Remus: the sense of inadequacy, the idea that he wasn’t enough, although, he was sure, they stemmed from different sources. Suddenly, he saw the insecurity in Remus, the insecurity in John too, how he had been very careful in the beginning about what he said and how he talked.

“Who isn’t like what?” he asked gently. “What do you mean, Remus?”

Remus closed his eyes, but the pained expression didn’t leave his face. He seemed to huddle closer in on himself, although Sirius couldn’t properly see due to the blanket. He just suddenly seemed much smaller.

“Who isn’t broken,” Remus said, so quietly that Sirius could hardly make out the words.

Remus turned his body away from Sirius.

“How are you broken, Remus?” Sirius asked, taking care to keep his voice gentle.

A long silence followed. Remus had hunched completely into himself. Sirius wanted to touch him, brush his shoulder or pull him into a hug, but he was worried it would scare Remus away. So instead, he watched how Remus withdrew into himself, turning away from Sirius’s friendship, turning away from Sirius’s love to protect himself.

Sirius thought about the way Remus had pulled his hand away when he was 16, had pulled it away before Sirius could take a hold of it. He thought about how vulnerable Remus had looked back then, but it had always been overshadowed by the words that came out of his mouth.

Now that he considered that memory, he remembered how Remus had done the same thing he was doing now: he had turned away and curled up, trying to explain that he wasn’t good enough for Sirius.

“I’m ill,” Remus whispered.

Sirius waited, hardly daring to breathe.

“I was already ill back then,” Remus said, barely audible. “And I allowed you to waste your time on me.”

“No,” Sirius said immediately, his loud voice making Remus jump. “Remus, no, it wasn’t a waste of time. It was never a waste of time. You’re not a waste of my time.”

“You said it yourself,” Remus said, louder now.

“Because I was angry,” Sirius said. “You… Remus, do you understand what it sounded like to me when you just suddenly told me I don’t deserve you?”

Remus remained quiet for a long time, then turned to look at Sirius. He seemed tired.

“You thought,” he asked quietly, “that I meant you’re not good enough for me?”

Sirius nodded and said, “That’s what it sounded like. That’s how I took it.”

Remus looked utterly gutted and quickly turned away again.

“And it made me angry,” Sirius said, “because I thought you were… I was hurt so I wanted to hurt you back. I never… I never thought you were a waste of my time.”

“You must have,” Remus said. “You must have meant it. And I understand why, if you thought that I had just been stringing you along.”

Sirius sighed quietly and said, “Remus. I was angry and upset, but I didn’t mean it. And I never thought it, not truly. Do you know why?”

Remus shook his head, still turned away from Sirius.

“Because,” Sirius said, making sure to speak clearly, “you helped me understand that I’m gay. You made me realise that. And without that realisation, I don’t know where I’d be. I would have probably married whatever girl my parents were trying to push onto me, and I’d be in a loveless marriage at this age, wasting all my youth trying to figure out why she’ll never make me feel anything.”

Remus stayed quiet.

“It’s only because of you,” Sirius said, “that I realised what to look for. And once I knew that, I got my first boyfriend. He… Well, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the year after that, my parents had kicked me out and I was free to be who I wanted to be. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Remus remained silent for a long time before he quietly asked, “Why did they kick you out?”

Sirius chuckled darkly.

“They found out that I’m gay,” he said. “My brother saw me snogging my boyfriend and told our parents.”

“So,” Remus said, “it’s my fault your parents kicked you out?”

Sirius sighed, this time loudly.

“Remus,” he said firmly, “it’s not your fault. It’s my own fault for being too careless, but more importantly, I don’t regret it. I’m happy now. And I could have never been happy with them. You don’t even understand how much they fucked me up.”

Remus cautiously turned to look at Sirius. Sirius flashed him a sincere smile.

“You helped me find myself,” he said with the smile still in place. “You were… Even though we parted in such a bad way, you were still one of my best memories.”

Remus didn’t look totally convinced, but at least he wasn’t arguing. He turned his body a bit, so he wasn’t facing completely away from Sirius any longer. He still looked wary under his blanket.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never meant to make you feel like you’re not good enough.”

“It’s okay, Remus,” Sirius said.

Remus shook his head but said nothing. Sirius bit his lip and considered the situation.

Remus had confirmed that he was ill, but he had yet to tell Sirius what it was exactly he had. He didn’t seem comfortable talking about it, and Sirius wondered if he would leave it unsaid unless Sirius specifically asked. But he didn’t think asking it outright would go over well. Remus was an extremely guarded person, and now that Sirius had realised how insecure he was about being ill, he wasn’t sure how to best approach it.

Maybe not approaching it was the best option.

“I wish I’d been more mature back then,” Sirius said. “If I had just asked you what you meant, maybe we could have…”

He didn’t want to finish the thought. He looked at Remus from the corner of his eyes, not daring to look more directly. Remus shook his head, and Sirius’s heart sank.

“Did you not want to?” he asked quietly.

Remus said nothing. He wasn’t looking at Sirius, but he hadn’t turned away either.

“What do you want, Remus?” Sirius asked. “Don’t think about what you think you deserve or whatever, just… What do you _want_?”

Remus glanced at him, then turned his head so that his face was hidden against his knees. The curve of his neck was bare, and Sirius wanted to kiss it.

“Do you want a relationship?” Sirius asked.

He turned to look at Remus properly and saw him nod against his knees.

“Okay, good,” Sirius said. “Do you want a relationship with me?”

Remus took a long time to think before he nodded. It made Sirius feel lighter and he couldn’t fight the smile that took over his face.

“Okay,” he said. “I would really like to have a relationship with you too.”

Remus remained quiet and hidden. Sirius watched him for a moment before deciding to tackle the rest.

“But,” he said slowly, “you think I could do better? Because you’re ill?”

Remus nodded empathically. Sirius waited, but Remus remained quiet and closed off.

“Why?” Sirius asked.

The question seemed to startle Remus, who turned his head to look at Sirius incredulously.

“What do you mean _why_?” he asked.

“I mean,” Sirius said, “why do you think it would be an issue for me?”

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it. His eyes were taking in the expression on Sirius’s face.

“What do you have?” Sirius asked. “What does it cause?”

Remus seemed to clam up again, although he didn’t turn his head away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to say.

“From what I know,” Sirius said, “it seems that occasionally it will render you unable to work for a day at least. It makes you tired and irritable, and you avoid people. Right?”

Remus looked wary but nodded slowly.

“What else does it cause?” Sirius asked. “I’m sure there are things we don’t see at work.”

Remus’s eyes shifted towards his desk, and Sirius wondered if he was looking at the assortment of trash.

“No one knows,” Remus said, then turned his eyes to Sirius again. “Only Edgar knows because I had to tell him. No one else knows.”

Sirius nodded and said, “If you want to tell me, I will not tell anyone else. It’s not my place to discuss your health behind your back.”

Remus didn’t appear fully convinced, but there was a peculiar look in his eyes. Sirius didn’t know what it meant.

“I go to a doctor in a different town,” Remus said quietly. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

Sirius nodded, then couldn’t resist adding, “You do realise that people know there’s something wrong with you?”

Remus snorted, and the smile on his face seemed genuine, albeit sad.

“I know,” he said. “But I don’t want them to know what it is. I… I get enough attention as is.”

“I can understand that,” Sirius said and nodded.

Remus cocked his brow at that.

“I can,” Sirius said defensively. “Just because I enjoy people appreciating my looks doesn’t mean I can’t get uncomfortable with attention. Sometimes attention is unwanted.”

Remus smiled a bit wider. He was starting to look less like he was hiding under his blanket and more like he was just doing what was comfortable.

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” Sirius said. “I just… Remus, I like you. A lot. And I wanted a relationship with you back when we were 16. And I would really like to give that relationship a go now that we’re older and wiser.”

Remus looked at him for a long time, biting his lip and resting his cheek on his knee. Then he said, seemingly without hesitation, “I have depression.”

Oh.

Many things were starting to click into place, and Sirius was grateful that Remus had chosen to share his secret with him.

“But you don’t usually seem sad,” Sirius said.

Remus shrugged.

“Is that also why you’ve been working fewer days?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded and said, “Yeah, it’s… I’ve been quite tired this autumn.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius offered. “Are you feeling a bit better now, though? You switched from three days to four?”

“I think it was a mistake, to be honest,” Remus admitted and shrugged again. “It feels like too much. I might have to switch back to three.”

“Oh,” Sirius said. “Well, that sucks.”

Remus smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You asked me what it causes,” he said. “This. I’m always tired, I have no motivation, I’m just… I’m not fun to be around when it gets bad. And it regularly gets bad.”

“How bad is today?” Sirius asked.

“Not that bad,” Remus said. “If you had visited yesterday, I wouldn’t have opened the door because I couldn’t get up from bed. And even if you had somehow made it in, I wouldn’t have been able to have a conversation with you.”

“Is that a tiredness thing too?” Sirius asked. “That you have no energy to talk even?”

Remus nodded. He looked down at his knees.

“It’s permeated every part of my life,” he said. “It’s always there.”

“How long have you had it?” Sirius asked.

“I was first diagnosed when I was 12,” Remus said. “I think I already had it earlier. No one just realised it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sirius said, unsure what Remus would want to hear and what he would not want to hear. “I don’t really… I honestly don’t know super much about depression except the very obvious.”

“That’s okay,” Remus said. He was starting to look tired. “You don’t need to go out of your way to try.”

“What if I want to?” Sirius posed.

Remus looked at him. Sirius was almost sure that he was hugging his own knees under the blanket.

“Can I hug you?” Sirius asked, surprising himself as well as Remus, who raised his head, eyes wide.

“I,” Remus stammered, “I haven’t showered.”

“I don’t care,” Sirius said.

Remus hesitated, but eventually nodded.

Sirius shuffled closer. Remus was still hunched under the blanket, now frozen in place, eyes on Sirius as if Sirius might do something sudden. Sirius smiled at him, then wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

Hugging Remus made Sirius feel nice, even though Remus was stiff. With a bit of time, however, Remus started relaxing, leaning into Sirius, and Sirius let one of his hands trail over Remus’s blanket-covered back.

“I really do like you, Remus,” Sirius said quietly. “I understand that you’re worried, but you shouldn’t let that stop you if you want the same as me.”

“What do you want exactly?” Remus whispered against Sirius’s neck.

“I just want you,” Sirius said. “I would really like to see where we could end up if we gave us a chance.”

Remus hummed in understanding but said nothing. Sirius waited, wondering if he should add something. Did Remus really understand what he meant? Did Remus need him to say it more clearly? Was there a chance of misunderstanding?

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” Remus asked.

Sirius straightened up to look at Remus from a bit of a distance. He wasn’t sure what the expression on Remus’s face meant.

“What do you mean?” he asked eventually, when Remus remained quiet.

“I mean,” Remus said with a faint smile, “that you were always stubborn. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

“You mean,” Sirius asked slowly, “that I would be too stubborn to break up with you just because you’re ill?”

Remus shrugged and turned his head away. Sirius pulled him back into a hug.

“So,” Sirius then ventured, “are you saying that you would be willing to give us a try?”

“I guess,” Remus said, his voice faint.

Sirius smiled. His heart was singing.

“It’s going to be difficult,” Remus said.

“I don’t mind,” Sirius said. “I don’t care, Remus. Did you just say yes to being my boyfriend?”

Remus chuckled and said, “I think I did.”

Sirius pulled back from the hug to look at Remus. A smile spread over Remus’s face when he saw Sirius, and Sirius leaned in to press a wet kiss on his lips. When he pulled back again, Remus’s cheeks were red.

“Does it really make you that happy?” Remus asked in awe.

“Yes,” Sirius said and nodded on top of it. “You make me happy.”

Remus looked at him for a long time before saying, “You don’t even know me that well.”

“I know you plenty well,” Sirius countered. “We’ve been working together since July.”

“I have a different work persona,” Remus pointed out.

“I know,” Sirius said cheerily. “But we also were close friends when we were younger.”

“I’ve changed a lot since then,” Remus said.

“So have I,” Sirius said. “And I’m excited to get to know who you have become.”

Remus looked at a loss for words. Then, after a significant moment, he said, “I’m going to try to sabotage our relationship in any way I can.”

Sirius cocked his head in question.

“I,” Remus said, then faltered and bit his lip. He rested his cheek on his knee again. “I just,” he tried, then turned his head so that his face was hidden again. His ears were red. “I have a deep-seated belief that I don’t deserve to be happy. And that eventually everything will go tits-up anyway, so I try to speed up the process.” He turned his head to look at Sirius with his wide solemn eyes. “I don’t do it on purpose, mind.”

“I get that,” Sirius said and nodded.

He suddenly remembered how he had been avoiding commitments since his first boyfriend, but quickly shoved that thought away. Instead, he pulled Remus back into a hug.

“I’m so happy right now,” he said against Remus’s hair.

Remus huffed out a laugh. When Sirius pulled away, Remus was smiling softly. Then the smile fell away.

“Sirius,” Remus said, and his voice was so grave that Sirius was expecting something horrible. “Absolutely no PDA. I don’t want people to know about us immediately. It’s just going to… I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Sirius said and nodded. “I wouldn’t really want it either, so that’s fine.”

“They will think we’re together anyway,” Remus said, “because they’ve seen you visit me several times now. But I don’t want to give the confirmation.”

Sirius nodded again and asked, “So, if I were to take you out on a date, I would have to plan it into another town?”

Remus smiled at that.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sirius said. “I honestly don’t want any more attention than I already have just for being new and beautiful.”

Remus laughed and the way his eyes sparkled made Sirius’s heart skip a beat.

“Oh, Remus,” Sirius then remembered. “You’re going to have to give me your number. I just realised today that I don’t have it.”

“Sure,” Remus said and reached for his own phone. “Give me yours too.”

Sirius got his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Remus, accepting Remus’s in return to add in his contact details. Having Remus’s number made him feel giddy, and he didn’t think he had ever experienced that level of joy just from having the means to contact someone whenever he liked.

He beamed at Remus, who smiled back, albeit less brightly.

“Are you tired?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. He had returned to hugging his knees, the blanket wrapped less tightly around him so Sirius could see parts of his arms and legs.

“Do you think you’ll be at work tomorrow?” Sirius asked.

Remus bit his lip in thought before saying, “I’m not sure. I’ll try, but I probably won’t, considering that I still have…” Remus’s voice trailed off and he gave Sirius a long searching look. “I have therapy in the afternoon,” he then said quietly. “It takes a lot out of me.”

“I can imagine,” Sirius said, glad to know that Remus was getting therapy, while a small part of him was also glad that he now knew why Remus always left work early on Thursdays. “Can I see you this weekend, though?”

“I’d like that,” Remus said quietly, and there was a small smile on his face. “I’ll probably still be tired, though.”

“That’s okay,” Sirius said immediately. “We don’t have to do anything big. I just want to spend time with you.”

“That should be fine,” Remus said and leaned his head on his knees again.

“I’ll text you about it, yeah?” Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. Then, after a beat, he said, “I don’t always have the energy to text either. Just so you know.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. “I get that.”

Remus huffed.

“You’re so positive about everything,” he said. “It’s going to be difficult, you know. I understand how much it sucks when you want to talk and I just can’t.”

“I get that,” Sirius said again. “I mean, maybe I don’t really, but I mean… I’ll try my best. I want to try.”

Remus looked at him, starting to seem drained out, then said, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Sirius repeated. “Should I go? You look really tired.”

“I guess so,” Remus said, but Sirius could have sworn he didn’t really mean it. “I’ll probably see you this weekend, then?”

“Yes,” Sirius said. He reached out a hand and placed it onto Remus’s shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

Remus smiled but said nothing. Sirius let his fingers graze over his nape before he pulled his hand away and stood up. Remus remained seated, head still turned to where Sirius had been sitting.

Sirius was about to say that he could find his own way out and Remus should stay and rest, when Remus shook his head and stood up, letting the blanket fall onto the bed. Sirius had already managed to forget how cute Remus looked in his oversized T-shirt, worn-out joggers, and fuzzy socks.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Remus said, not quite looking at Sirius, and headed out of the room.

Sirius followed, appreciating how long Remus’s legs were. He couldn’t help remembering what it had felt like to be settled between them. He wondered if Remus would let him go down on him again that weekend. He wondered if Remus would be upset to know that Sirius was just thinking about sex while Remus was so tired and… well, sad, he supposed.

He wasn’t sure what it felt like to be depressed and decided to look it up once he got home. And maybe, once Remus was feeling a bit better, he could ask Remus what it was like.

Remus watched Sirius put on his shoes and coat. When Sirius straightened up, Remus pulled him into a kiss. It was sweet and warm, and Sirius melted into it. Remus felt good in his arms. He wanted to keep holding Remus for the rest of his life.

The kiss went on for far longer than Sirius had anticipated, and once they finally pulled apart, they were both panting slightly, Remus’s lips were shiny with spit, and Sirius was sure his hair was dishevelled from the way Remus had dug his fingers into it.

“How badly do I look like I just snogged you?” Sirius asked and turned to the mirror. “I’m sure the neighbours need no extra incentive to gossip about us.”

Remus snorted and combed his fingers through Sirius’s hair to make it appear neater.

“I’m sure they can tell just by that smile on your face,” he said with a silly smile of his own.

Sirius’s smile widened and he pressed a quick kiss onto the tip of Remus’s nose.

“Off you go then,” Remus said with laughter in his voice.

“I’ll see you on the weekend if not tomorrow,” Sirius said, placing one last kiss onto Remus’s cheek.

“Yeah,” Remus said, voice breathy, and Sirius had to turn his back and open the door to make sure he was really going to go rather than just kiss Remus again.

“Bye, Remus,” Sirius said, turning to look at Remus at the threshold.

“Bye-bye,” Remus said, giving a small wave.

Sirius didn’t stop smiling all day.


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius thought that anyone who didn’t realise that he and Remus were together must have been stupid or wilfully ignorant; Sirius couldn’t stop looking at Remus, giving him soppy smiles whenever their eyes met. They often went home together after work, sometimes to Remus’s, sometimes to Sirius’s. On weekends, they left for the bigger towns, and when they got back, they spent the night together.

Sirius wasn’t sure he had ever been as happy as he was with Remus. Remus seemed happy too, livelier. He had switched to working only three days a week, and he told Sirius that it made him feel less burdened, but that he hoped that he could eventually get back to five days a week.

Remus showed Sirius the photos he had selected as being the best from their earlier photography session, and Sirius had trouble believing his eyes when he saw them.

“Do I really look like that?” he asked several times as he went through the pictures.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know he looked good – he knew he looked very good. But the way Remus’s photos made him look was somehow more, somehow different. There was warmth in them, care, all the right angles, and Sirius couldn’t believe that he could look so…

Loved?

He blushed even thinking about the word, and while it made him feel light and giddy, it also made his gut churn unpleasantly.

The photos must have been an accurate representation of how Remus saw him, because he found himself drawing Remus in equally warm ways. Around mid-December, when Remus was having a bad day and didn’t feel like doing anything or even talking much, Sirius drew a picture of him sitting on his bed watching telly. When he presented Remus with it, Remus looked like his eyes might pop out of their sockets.

Remus couldn’t find words, so after opening and closing his mouth several times, he carefully placed the drawing on top of his book pile on the nightstand and pulled Sirius into a passionate kiss.

Sirius was glad to find that Remus wasn’t too tired to be fucked into the mattress.

Christmas holidays arrived much more quickly than Sirius had anticipated or hoped. He didn’t feel good about leaving Remus by himself, but Remus assured him that he wouldn’t be alone because the Weasleys always had him over for Christmas. Sirius wished that they’d been dating for longer so he could convince Remus to come to the Potters for the holidays.

Alas, he had to leave Remus behind as he travelled to the Potters by himself. Remus put him on the train, and because the railway station was not in Hogsmeade, they could kiss goodbye.

It took Sirius a full eight minutes before he texted Remus from the train.

Sirius had to confess he was slightly surprised by how cheerful Remus’s messages sounded. He had noticed that as Christmas drew closer, Remus had gone quieter, although he couldn’t tell if it was due to Christmas or just Remus’s usual depression tiredness. He had decided not to ask because he felt like Remus wouldn’t like having him point it out.

James and Peter met Sirius at the station. Seeing them made Sirius’s heart jump with joy, and he realised how much he had missed physically being with his best friends. They chattered happily all the way to the Potters’ residence, and Sirius was filled with comfort unlike any he had felt back in Hogsmeade.

His first day back with the Potters was chaotic, and it was only once he was lying in bed that night that he noticed the odd ball of anxiety in his gut. He sighed, long and loud. He didn’t know why he felt that way, he didn’t particularly want to know either, and he hated that there was no way for him to get rid of it.

After lying in bed for three hours, still wide awake, he turned on the lights and took out his sketchbook with dark green covers. Without thinking much, he put pen on paper and let the picture flow out of him.

Once he was finished, he stopped to look at what he had drawn. He hated how he immediately started to understand the odd feeling in him.

He swallowed heavily, closed the sketchbook, turned off the lights and tried to sleep.

Even though Sirius was with the Potters, the closest thing to parents he would ever have, his anxiety didn’t ease up. He was happy, but he was also sad.

He hated it.

He hated having feelings he couldn’t control.

James was staying with his parents for Christmas too and kept waking Sirius in the mornings, all bright and joyful, and Sirius would laugh because James had always been that way and he had missed it, he had missed the feeling of brotherhood one could only achieve with physical closeness. Effie and Monty asked him questions about his life in Hogsmeade, even though he had told them everything on the phone already, but it made him feel cared for, to be treated like he was leading an interesting life and like they were proud of him for having achieved it all on his own.

After Christmas, James and Lily announced that they were having a baby. Sirius couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that James was going to be a father. He couldn’t believe that James hadn’t told him they were planning on having a baby. He was sure that James would have told him if he still lived close-by. Living in Hogsmeade had isolated him from the people he considered family.

He was happy for them, he was. He was honoured that they asked him to be the godfather.

He was also confused.

He felt like James had grown up while he was gone. James had become someone else, someone mature, someone who was going to have a May wedding with his girlfriend and then have a child. James was building a family, and Sirius felt like he hadn’t seen it coming at all.

Sirius, of course, didn’t tell James any of this. He congratulated them, he hugged Lily for the first time ever, and he smiled, but there was a hollow spot in his heart.

He spent time with James and Peter – even with Lily. He was surrounded by the big city and all the people in it, and Sirius thrived with it. He was in his element, he was happy and he felt light, and there were plenty of girls and some cute blokes flirting with him, and he felt like home.

It was all reminding him of how different Hogsmeade was. The only real friend he had in Hogsmeade was Remus. There were no strangers there; he had learned to know most people by name.

In Hogsmeade, there were no people in their early 20s because it offered nothing to them. There were some younger boys that were still in school and lived at home, but Sirius hadn’t connected with them. They seemed too young, too naïve, too… uninteresting.

Sirius figured that maybe his interests were more big-city interests, maybe he would have grown up to like different things if he had grown up in Hogsmeade or some other small town. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like such an oddity.

There were people in their late 20s in Hogsmeade, but they were all married couples with children, and he would never have anything in common with them, even if he was going to be a godfather.

There were many sweet elderly ladies that wanted to pinch his cheeks and tell him what a dishy little thing he was, and then there was Jacob.

His best friends weren’t there. Effie and Monty weren’t there.

And spending the Christmas with them made Sirius realise how lonely he was in Hogsmeade.

Sure, he had acquaintances, and he had developed sort of a friendship with Caradoc, but it was different. It was all different and left him feeling hollow and alone even when he was sitting with all his best friends sharing a laugh. He found himself drawing in his dark green sketchbook nearly every night.

When Sirius returned to Hogsmeade in early January, he was exhausted. He had been planning on seeing Remus immediately, but once he had closed the door to his flat behind himself, he headed straight to his bed and slumped onto it.

He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed it sooner, couldn’t believe he had to go spend the holidays with the people who most mattered to him before he realised how lonely he was.

He hated that he felt lonely, even though he had Remus. Wasn’t that enough? Couldn’t that have been enough?

Now that he had realised it, he couldn’t get rid of it. It was constantly in the back of his mind, deep in his core where the ball of anxiety resided. He was always aware of it, no matter what he was doing. He could only ever forget about it when he was with Remus, once they were alone and leaning against each other or wrapped around each other’s bodies, just talking or holding hands or kissing or making love. He could forget about it for as long as Remus was touching him, demanding all his attention.

But once Remus left him alone, Sirius remembered his loneliness.

He had never drawn in his dark green sketchbook so frequently. He had even started painting one of the sketches on a medium-sized canvas. The work was slow, he still felt clumsy with his brushes, but it was a good distraction.

Mostly, Sirius managed to keep his feelings to himself, but he knew that Remus had noticed. He knew that Remus could tell something was wrong, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Remus knew him well enough. Remus didn’t, however, bring it up, maybe waiting for Sirius to talk about it first. Maybe he figured that Sirius would talk about it if it was necessary.

Sirius figured it wasn’t necessary.

At some point, the feeling was bound to fade. If he didn’t give it attention, it wouldn’t have room to grow, and it would eventually get suffocated in its small space. If he refused to be unhappy, if he just kept smiling, it would eventually become real.

So, he continued going to work, flirting with Remus in discreet ways, following Remus home, holding hands, kissing, making love, talking about things that mattered and things that didn’t matter, anything that didn’t have anything to do with how the anxiety was gnawing on his insides. Sirius played Remus music: Remus liked some of it, disliked some of it, and felt indifferent about some of it. Sirius drew pictures of Remus and Remus took pictures of him in return.

They watched the telly and talked about plot holes and loudly complained about how horribly stupid reality TV was while they continued watching reality shows. Sirius listened to Remus explain the plot to a book he liked and rant about a book he didn’t like. He listened to Remus talk about the books he still wanted to read, the books he wished existed, and the books he sometimes thought about writing but then never did.

He should have been happy. And in a way, he was.

In a way, he was very happy.

That year, Valentine’s Day fell on a Sunday, and Sirius took Remus out for a romantic dinner in one of the neighbouring towns. He was kind of disappointed that he couldn’t just take Remus to Madam Puddifoot’s. They walked past its windows on their way to the bus, and Sirius peeked in to see how frilly and pink the entire décor was. He was sure it would give him a headache, but there was a certain allure to the overly romantic and stereotypically heterosexual interpretation of Valentine’s Day.

Their romantic dinner was pizza at an affordable restaurant, after which they walked around holding hands until it started raining. They found shelter in a quaint café and sat close to each other with hot chocolate in their mugs.

All in all, the day was a success, but that night, when Sirius had failed to sleep for two hours, he took out his green sketchbook yet again.

Things weren’t improving like Sirius had been hoping they would. He had good days, but it was very difficult to forget his loneliness when he was alone in his flat, knowing that if he went out, there would be no one out there. He ended up drawing a lot in his green sketchbook.

He did his best to keep up a brave front for Remus. Remus deserved better than his messy feelings. Remus needed him to be strong and untroubled because Remus already had his own issues to worry about. Sirius didn’t need to add to that burden, especially because his issues were fleeting. They would disappear eventually.

They would.

*

Sirius had been having a bad week and was relieved once the workday ended. He hurried to the staff room to get ready to go home.

For once, he had no plans with Remus, which he felt conflicted about. On one hand, he wanted to spend time with Remus because it made him feel calmer, on the other hand he wanted to go home and lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and not thinking.

Maybe he would start a new painting.

The door opened behind him just as he had pulled his coat on.

“Sirius,” Remus said as he stepped into the staff room.

“Remus,” Sirius replied, a smile already taking over his face as he turned to look at Remus.

His smile fell when he saw the expression on Remus’s face. It gave him a very bad feeling about their upcoming conversation.

“This isn’t working out,” Remus said, and Sirius felt his heart drop out of his chest and slide onto the floor. “It’s not good for either of us. And we shouldn’t try to keep going.”

“Do I not have a say in this?” Sirius asked weakly, amazed that he could talk at all.

Remus looked him straight in the eye and said, “This needs to end.”

Sirius opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could do was gasp for air as he felt how his limbs were quickly losing strength.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said and did not sound sorry at all.

Sirius stared at Remus collecting his things and leaving. Sirius stared at the door after it closed behind him.

He was in shock. That was good. That meant that it hadn’t sunk in yet. It was good.

Sirius hurriedly finished putting on his coat and left, nearly ran to his bike and rode home faster than was safe. He didn’t greet any of his neighbours.

He had shut the door behind himself and taken off one shoe when it hit him.

He gasped for air, tears blurred his vision, and he sank onto the floor, back leaning heavily against the door. With shaking hands, he got out his phone and called James.

“Well, hello there,” James said. “What can I do for you on this fine afternoon? That’s sarcasm, by the way. It’s absolutely pouring down here. Is the weather in Hogsmeade any less appalling?"

Sirius let out a strangled sob.

"That bad, huh?" James asked, then seemed to register what he had just heard. “Sirius? Is everything okay?”

Sirius broke into sobs.

“No,” James said upon hearing that, “everything’s not okay. Did something happen?”

Sirius couldn’t speak. He could only cry.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried without hiding it. At least James couldn’t see it. At least James could only hear it.

He pressed his forehead against his knee, tears soaking into the denim.

“It’s all right, Sirius,” he heard James say, and he wanted to tell James that no, it wasn’t all right. “Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing, little brother.”

Sirius let out a strangled laugh at that, then it made him cry harder because he missed James, he missed James so much, and he had no one left in Hogsmeade.

He didn’t know how long it took for him to calm down enough to stutter, “Remus broke up with me.”

“Oh no,” James said. “I’m sorry, Sirius. Why did he do that?”

Sirius sniffled, wiped his nose with his hand, then wiped his hand on his already soaked knee.

“He said it wasn’t working out,” he said, already sounding much clearer. “I don’t understand, James. I thought we were doing good.”

“Did he say why he thinks it’s not working out?” James asked.

“No,” Sirius said and closed his eyes tightly. A stray tear slid over his cheek. “He just said it’s not good for either of us, and I don’t understand what that means.”

“That’s such a generic thing to say,” James said sharply, then added, more softly, “I’m sorry, Sirius. I just… You deserve a proper explanation.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Sirius said. “Please, James. Can we talk about something else?”

“If you’re sure,” James said gently.

“Mm-hm,” Sirius responded.

He got up from the floor and took off his second shoe, then his coat.

“Just talk to me about something,” he said and headed to bed. “Anything.”

He stayed on the phone with James for three hours, listening to James’s detailed recounting of the rugby game he had gone to see with Peter, the celebrations afterwards, and their hangovers the next morning, which somehow turned into him discussing the pros and cons of shaving his head.

*

There was nothing left for Sirius in Hogsmeade.

Well, except for his job and his flat, but he could find a new job and a new flat somewhere else.

If he had thought he was lonely before, it only really sunk in once he no longer had Remus. Granted, he and Remus had only been dating for ten weeks and six days, but even before that, Remus had been friendly with him. Remus had been available, a possibility. Even though they hadn’t been friends, there had been potential for friendship.

And now there wasn’t.

Time was dragging at work, because obviously it ended up being a slow day just when Sirius needed it to be busy. He wasn’t sure how to deal with Remus, so he had mostly opted to ignore him. He was, however, keenly aware of Remus’s presence just a few feet away.

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice said, “I require some assistance.”

Sirius turned his head and looked up at none other than James Potter.

“Jamie!” he exclaimed, probably too loudly for a library, shot up from his chair and rounded the counter to pull James into a tight hug.

James hugged him back ferociously, filling his heart with warmth, then smacked a loud wet kiss onto his cheek. Sirius giggled. When he pulled back, he saw Remus turning his head to the opposite direction.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked.

“I’m obviously here to see you,” James said and rolled his eyes. He lowered his voice before saying, “You sounded like you could use some company.”

Sirius blinked rapidly to keep his emotions in check. Once he was sure that his voice wouldn’t break, he said, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” James said immediately, waving his hand. “When do you get off work?”

Just as James asked that, Edgar emerged from his office.

“Hello,” he said jovially when he spotted James and Sirius standing close together. “Are you a friend of Sirius’s?”

James turned a beaming smile at Edgar and said, “He’s my baby brother.”

“I’m older than you,” Sirius pointed out, just as he always did.

“There, there,” James cooed and patted Sirius’s cheek softly. “The title of baby brother doesn’t depend on your age.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. He turned to Edgar and properly introduced James and Edgar to each other.

“So good to meet Sirius’s family,” Edgar said as he shook hands with James. “He’s been truly a gift to us.”

Sirius’s gut twisted. He thought it must have shown on the outside, because before Edgar launched into a speech about all of Sirius’s achievements, James redirected the attention to the library itself. He spent a moment reminiscing visiting it during his Hogwarts years, and Sirius made a mental note to ask him if he really had visited it so frequently or if he had made it up for the sake of the conversation.

He glanced at Remus, who was pointedly not looking their way.

“Sirius,” Edgar said, bringing Sirius’s attention back to the conversation. “I think you can leave early today. Remus and I can manage the rest.”

James’s eyes widened and he immediately turned to look at Remus, whose ears were now red. Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but Edgar knew him well enough to already wave his hand.

“I insist,” he said. “Take a bit of family time to yourself. You have earned it.”

Sirius nodded and quickly expressed his thanks, heading to the staffroom to calm down. He wondered how much Edgar had guessed from the way he and Remus had been acting. He could hear James following him.

“So, that was the infamous Remus, then?” James asked the moment the staffroom door had closed.

Sirius sighed but nodded.

“He looks different than I imagined,” James said in thought.

“What did you imagine, then?” Sirius asked, gathering his things.

“I don’t know,” James said slowly and thought for a moment. “He looks so plain.”

“I think he’s cute,” Sirius said, feeling defensive on Remus’s behalf.

“I guess I can see that,” James said. “I just mean, I thought he would look more… I think it’s more that his attitude was different than I expected.”

“What did you expect?” Sirius asked, pulling on his coat and fastening it.

“I’m not sure,” James said. “Not… that. He was so closed-off.”

“He’s usually not like that,” Sirius said. “He’s good at keeping up a professional and friendly front.”

“Hmm,” was all James said in response.

It was snowing gently as they headed to Sirius’s flat in silence. Silence with James always felt good. It felt safe not to say anything, and Sirius wanted to hang onto that feeling, unsure when he would get to spend time with James again.

“How long were you planning on staying?” Sirius asked, looking appraisingly at the duffle bag James was carrying.

“As long as you need,” James said.

“A couple of days then,” Sirius said.

“A couple of weeks, more likely,” James said.

Sirius pushed him. James stumbled and burst to laughter.

“Lily would kill me if I kept you that long,” Sirius said.

“She wouldn’t,” James said cheerfully. “She knows you’re heartbroken and need the brotherly advice and support of your big brother.”

“I don’t think I can put up with you for much more than a few days,” Sirius said with a wide grin on his face, choosing to completely ignore the bleaker reason for James’s visit.

“May I remind you,” James said haughtily, “that we used to share a dorm? You had to put up with me every day for months at a time.”

Sirius snorted and said, “But since then, I’ve discovered the joys of not sharing with you.”

“How rude,” James scoffed, but his laughter broke through.

They joked and laughed the rest of the way. James looked around Sirius’s flat in clear interest.

“It’s bigger than I expected,” he said. “But funnily enough, also smaller than I expected.

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Sirius said, “yet oddly enough, it does.”

James’s smile was vibrant. He turned towards Sirius’s desk, then stepped closer. Sirius realised that he must have noticed the painting Sirius had only just finished a few days earlier. James considered it quietly, then turned to Sirius.

“It’s really good,” he said. “I didn’t know you were painting, though.”

“I just started,” Sirius said. “I mean, I guess I started before Christmas, but I haven’t really done much.”

“This is amazing,” James said and turned to regard the painting again. Then his eyes shifted to a small pile of papers on the side. “What’s this?”

Sirius looked at the papers as well. On top of the pile there was a flyer Edgar had given him a few days prior.

“They’re hosting a self-portrait exhibition at the library,” Sirius said. “Anyone can submit their work.”

James hummed and leaned closer to give the flyer a read. Then he turned to look at Sirius again.

“You should submit this,” he said and gestured towards the painting. “It’s really good.”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said and scratched his chin, but he was already considering the suggestion. “Maybe if there aren’t enough submissions from elsewhere.”

“No,” James said, “I think you should submit it anyway.”

Sirius shrugged. He stepped closer to look at the painting again. He didn’t think it was _really good_ , but he didn’t think it was bad either. He thought it was obvious that it had been painted by a beginner, but the composition was solid.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, still looking over the painting.

They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around Hogsmeade to visit familiar places. James was nearly ecstatic to be there and to discover that very little had changed. Most of the elderly ladies they ran into remembered him.

In the evening, they were back at Sirius’s flat. They were finishing up the last of their take-away when James said, “Why do you stay here when it’s clearly making you miserable?”

Sirius nearly dropped his food container, head whipping up to look at James in disbelief. James raised his brows at him.

“What?” James asked. “I know you. I can tell you’re unhappy. And it’s not just because of Remus either.”

Sirius’s cheeks heated up and he looked away, busying himself with cleaning up the table.

“I’ll be honest,” James said. “When you told us you had gotten a job in Hogsmeade, I thought you were joking. I didn’t think you ever wanted to come back here after… well, after it all.”

Sirius only shrugged.

“I didn’t want to discourage you,” James continued, “but now that I’ve seen you here… Why are you here, Sirius?”

Sirius slowly washed their forks. His back turned to James, he said, “Some of my best memories are from here.”

“What memories?” James asked. “You hated Hogwarts and everything it stood for.”

“Not Hogwarts,” Sirius said. Slowly, he turned around and sat down again. “There… There was a boy. In Hogsmeade.”

“A boy in Hogsmeade?” James asked. “When did this happen? You never told me anything about any boys in Hogsmeade.”

“I didn’t tell you,” Sirius said quietly, “because I wanted to keep him to myself.”

James looked at him searchingly, and Sirius turned his eyes away.

“He,” Sirius started, then was unsure how to continue.

“Was he,” James asked slowly, “your boyfriend?”

Sirius shook his head.

“He was different,” he said then. “He was different from me, different from us. He lived in this small town of modest buildings and his clothes were worn-out and relaxed, and he… I wanted to… He was an experience.”

Sirius glanced at James, whose attention was on him.

“Then I got to know him more,” Sirius continued, “and I realised what an amazing person he was. We became friends. We were good friends. He… I… There was something about the way I felt about him that I couldn’t understand. He was… He fascinated me, but not in the way I had thought. And then I realised that I fancied him.”

Sirius turned to look at James.

“He was my gay revelation,” he admitted. “Once I realised that I fancied him, it all started making sense to me.”

“But he wasn’t your boyfriend?” James asked.

Sirius laughed bitterly.

“I tried to hold his hand,” he said. “Things were said, mistakes were made, and I never saw him again.”

James slumped backwards in his chair, both of his hands in his hair.

“What does that mean?” he asked, frustrated. “What do you mean mistakes were made?”

Sirius managed a genuine smile as he said, “He told me I don’t deserve him. I told him he was a waste of my time. I left.”

“What the fuck,” James said, now sounding indignant, and Sirius loved knowing that it was on his behalf. “What did he mean you don’t deserve him? You’re amazing!”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Sirius said. “Of course, I only found out a couple of months ago.”

“How do you know that?” James asked. “How did you find out?”

“I talked to him about it,” Sirius said.

“You talked to him,” James repeated, staring at Sirius, completely baffled. “You talked to your boy in Hogsmeade. Oh, _oh_. Does he still live here?”

“It was Remus,” Sirius said.

“ _Oh_ ,” James said, eyes wide. “Remus was your boy in Hogsmeade!”

Sirius nodded and gave James time to digest what he had just learned.

“And,” James said, “how did you… Sirius, you need to tell me the whole story. I don’t understand! When did you know him originally?”

“Fifth year,” Sirius said. “Remember that one time in June when I came in and wouldn’t talk to you for a few days?”

“Was that because of Remus?” James asked. “Man, that boy has really messed with you.”

Sirius shook his head, then delved into a detailed explanation of how he and Remus had come to solve their differences to become a couple, only to break up two months later.


	6. Chapter 6

Sirius had started searching for jobs out of Hogsmeade and closer to the Potters. James had been right: Hogsmeade was making him miserable and it wasn’t good for him to stay.

In the meantime, he had decided to submit his self-portrait to the exhibition, receiving enthusiastic praise from Edgar when he had presented it. March was quickly coming to an end, the exhibition creeping closer, and when Edgar mentioned that they were one portrait short of having a full exhibition, Sirius volunteered one of his drawings for it.

On the last day of March, Edgar told Sirius to help Remus put the portraits up. Remus had easily reverted back to his distant work persona, but the change had been difficult for Sirius. He didn’t know how to talk to Remus, he couldn’t stop feeling hurt every time he looked at Remus, so he had resorted to being quiet, ignoring Remus as much as possible without hindering their work.

They were working quietly with the portraits, in the same space without sharing it. Sirius had just put up an abstract painting that he wasn’t sure was actually a portrait of any kind, and as he turned to pick up the next piece, he saw Remus from the corner of his eye.

Before he could turn his attention away, Sirius noticed Remus’s movements slowing down, until Remus stopped moving completely. He turned to look properly and found Remus intently studying one of Sirius’s self-portraits.

Sirius wasn’t entirely sure why he had thought that Remus would not see his self-portraits in the exhibition. He and Remus had put up the photo exhibition, so it would have been only natural to assume that he and Remus would be putting up the portrait exhibition as well; not to mention that Remus was bound to be interested in the exhibition even if he wasn’t the one putting it up. For some reason, Sirius had completely ignored that, submitting his portraits in need of validation while also not wanting Remus to see.

He considered the painting Remus was examining, trying to see it from an outsider’s perspective. It was a picture of him drowning into an unidentified body of murky water. There wasn’t much visible of him: the side of his head but not his facial features, his shoulder, his hand with bruised knuckles, yet his hair revealed that it was clearly him. He couldn’t tell what Remus might have been thinking. For all he knew, maybe Remus was appraising his painting technique rather than the subject matter.

Remus then turned to study the second self-portrait Sirius had submitted. It was a pencil drawing that he had finished during Christmas holidays, while the intensity of his loneliness had hit him the hardest. He was standing alone with no discernible background, wearing a suit. His posture was relaxed, but his face was distorted: it had scattered into pieces, some of them floating away from him. Sirius watched Remus’s eyes flick to the date in the lower right-hand corner, 28/12/2009.

Remus turned to look at Sirius. His eyes were scrutinising, and Sirius couldn’t take it, he couldn’t face anything Remus might have to say to him, so he turned away and left. Of course, his workday wasn’t over yet, so he couldn’t _leave_ leave, and he ended up sitting in the corner of the staff room, hoping that Remus wouldn’t try to follow.

Time ticked by slowly – or possibly quickly, he didn’t know. He sat hunched up, knees against his chest and tears in his eyes, but he refused to cry. He would never cry in public, even if he was currently alone and in a room that was only accessible to a handful of people. But he wouldn’t cry because he wasn’t a crier, and he sat there, forehead heavy on his knees as he kept breathing, the air hot and moist against his chest.

He thought he heard someone at the door, but when he lifted his head, there was no one there. He kept his head up and stared at the door. He must have sat there for quite a while by then, and the urge to cry had receded considerably. In fact, his eyes felt extraordinarily dry. His heartbeat was starting to calm down. His legs felt stiff.

Then, the door opened, and Remus walked in. He didn’t look surprised to see Sirius hunched over in the corner, and Sirius wondered if Remus had actually been at the door a bit earlier and had already seen him there.

“Time to go home,” Remus said.

He didn’t smile, but there was something soft in his eyes. Sirius sat still and stared. Remus raised his brows.

“Your workday is over,” Remus told him. “It’s time to go home.”

Sirius blinked a few times, trying to absorb the words. Remus approached him slowly, as if he was a scared wild animal prepared to bite. Then, Remus extended a hand. Sirius turned to look at it. He stared at it for a while, then turned his head to look at Remus’s face. Remus was meeting his gaze.

Sirius looked down at the offered hand again. Slowly, he held out his own hand, even more slowly he grasped Remus’s hand and let Remus pull him upright. Remus didn’t let go. He guided Sirius to the coat racks.

When he let go of Sirius’s hand, Sirius immediately missed his touch.

He hated that.

They had broken up. They were no more. He wasn’t allowed to miss Remus like that because Remus didn’t want him.

When he remained motionless, Remus picked up his coat and handed it to him. He put it on, his movements slow and stiff. Remus put on his own coat as well, then turned to zip up Sirius’s open coat. He didn’t zip it all the way up, knowing exactly how much Sirius usually left it open.

Sirius’s hands were shaking. Remus picked up his backpack, and for the first time Sirius wondered what it was that Remus carried with him. Probably his lunchbox. Books, knowing Remus.

When Sirius remained standing there, Remus took a gentle hold of his wrist and started guiding him out of the staff room. Remus’s mittens were soft and warm. Sirius thought about protesting, because it would look like they were holding hands. People would get the wrong idea. They would see, and Remus didn’t want to be seen.

Instead, Sirius followed Remus, who gave Edgar a cheerful goodbye on their way out. They stopped by the bike racks, Remus unlocking Sirius’s bike. Sirius realised that Remus hadn’t brought his bike that day, which was probably smart because it was snowing heavily. Sirius had enough wherewithal to take a hold of his bike.

“You shouldn’t try to ride it,” Remus told him, and Sirius easily agreed.

He started walking towards his flat, surprised but also not surprised to find Remus following him. Remus walked by his side but in just the right spot where Sirius couldn’t see him peripherally.

The walk was slow. Sirius felt like he was treading through syrup, his feet sticking to the ground with each step, but somehow, they eventually made it to his flat.

Remus continued to guide him, locking his bike for him and then taking a hold of his hand to lead him home. Sirius managed to unlock the door, but Remus eventually took off his coat for him. Sirius did, however, find it in him to take care of his shoes on his own. Remus sat him down on the edge of his bed, went to get him a glass of water, then sat down on the bed too.

Sirius slowly drank the water. His throat had felt sticky, and drinking made breathing easier. Once the glass was drained, Remus took it out of Sirius’s hands and took it back to the sink. He then returned to sit on the bed, a small distance away from Sirius, and Sirius had no idea how Remus simply knew what the perfect distance was to make Sirius feel like he wasn’t alone but not suffocate with it.

Sitting with Remus made him nervous because he no longer knew where they stood, but it was also easy because he could still remember how good it had been while they were together.

“I think it’s obvious we need to talk,” Remus broke the silence.

Sirius turned to him. Remus seemed serious, but there was something in his eyes that made his face appear softer. Sirius couldn’t look any longer, so he turned away.

“Why did you break up with me?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Remus said, startling Sirius, who turned to look at him with disbelieving eyes. “We’re not going to start with me opening up about my feelings. You are going to talk about your feelings first.”

Sirius opened his mouth but could produce no sound, so he closed it again.

“I realised,” Remus said, “that I told you things about myself, but you never really reciprocated. You never told me much of anything about yourself, especially about how you feel.”

Sirius could only stare, his vocal cords seemingly paralysed.

“Sirius,” Remus said his name gently. “Those self-portraits are honest, aren’t they? They’re an honest look into how you feel on the inside, aren’t they?”

It took a moment, but eventually Sirius managed to nod. Remus nodded too and smiled softly.

“I can’t believe they’re your self-portraits,” Remus said. “I can’t believe it because you never told me any of it. I could have rationalised those as being you having a hard time after our break-up, but the drawing is from last year, and the painting… You only just started painting, so it’s reasonable to assume that you’re still slow. That painting must have taken you more than a few days to finish, right? It’s dated last month, but that just means you finished it last month? So, a bit after we broke up. Or even before that.”

Remus looked at Sirius expectantly, and Sirius managed another nod.

“When did you start painting it?” Remus asked.

“January,” Sirius croaked out. “I sketched it in December.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. For a moment, it was quiet.

“Tell me about it,” Remus said then. “Tell me why your self-portraits are so distressing.”

Sirius opened his mouth, but he seemed to have forgotten how to form words. All that came out was a strangled squeak. Remus was watching him, waiting, but he couldn’t talk.

Then he thought of something. He got up, much to Remus’s confusion, and fetched his sketchbook with plain dark green covers from his desk. With trembling hands, he handed it to Remus.

Remus took the sketchbook in his hands delicately, as though wary of dropping it. He opened it.

Sirius had started using the green sketchbook in summer 2005. He had drawn in it for the first time the night after he and Remus had had their fight, their misunderstanding, whatever one chose to call it. He had been sitting cross-legged under his blanket, and in the poor light of his phone, he had drawn himself, small and meaningless and alone. Next to the drawing he had written, “Not good enough,” in messy letters.

He had been an edgy teenager when he drew it, but it still evoked the same emotions of rejection and hurt that he had wanted to portray with it.

The next time he had used the sketchbook had been in spring 2006 when his first boyfriend had left him. Once again, it was a picture of him, this time broken and bleeding, and on the top of the page he had written, “Not good enough,” in his neatest handwriting.

His third drawing was him after his parents had kicked him out. He had often contemplated ripping it out because he didn’t want to remember, his parents were no longer his parents, he was no longer a Black, so what was the point of remembering, but he had drawn half of it on the reverse side of his break-up drawing and he didn’t want to lose that. He hadn’t even glimpsed at that particular spread in years, always making sure to skip past it, but he could still remember that next to the picture of him in a sorry state he had written down some of the things his mother had yelled at him.

After that, he had only used the sketchbook sporadically, only adding to it when the anxiety was overflowing and he didn’t know what to do to cope, which hadn’t happened that often. He hadn’t drawn in it in nearly a year before he had moved to Hogsmeade and drew a picture of a dingy street and himself walking alone.

There were a couple of quicker sketches from that autumn, and he hadn’t thought about them much when he drew them, apart from the one he had drawn after he and Remus had had sex. It was only now that he watched Remus looking at them that he realised how bad he must have been feeling all along if he was drawing in that sketchbook.

Remus’s face grew grimmer as he reached the drawings Sirius had been working on through Christmas holidays.

There was the initial sketch of the painting he had submitted to the exhibition, and along with it numerous sketches and drawings varying from hurried and simple to very detailed, all of them exploring his loneliness, his feelings of inadequacy, his fear of abandonment and rejection. He had stopped using words to convey a message, didn’t even always draw himself any longer, and he was unsure how clearly his pictures portrayed the specific emotions.

He had drawn a lot in January, even more in February, although it had abruptly ended right after his break-up with Remus. He hadn’t felt like drawing, he hadn’t known how to express the pain he had been feeling. His last drawing was from mid-March, when he had been feeling especially alone and hopeless.

Remus took a long time going through the sketchbook, stopping on each drawing and spending time studying them. Sirius wasn’t sure how it made him feel. It was like Remus had opened up his chest and was glimpsing straight into his heart, and it terrified him, but it also felt like someone was seeing him as him, his full self, his true self, the part of him he kept hidden from everyone, including James – and he told James _everything_.

Once Remus got to the last drawing and had spent the appropriate time considering it, he carefully closed the book and looked at Sirius. There was sorrow in his eyes, and it made Sirius feel odd to know that it was sorrow over him.

“I thought you were acting strange because you were tired of me,” Remus said. “You hadn’t been acting that way before we got together, so I came to the conclusion that it must have been my fault. You were insistent that you would be fine about my issues, but I thought you hadn’t really understood how difficult it would be, but then you realised. And that’s why you changed.”

Sirius blinked at that. Remus appeared to have something more to say, so Sirius lifted up his hand to stop him. Remus raised his brows. Sirius reached to his nightstand and grabbed a different sketchbook, this one with red and gold covers. He handed it to Remus, who gave him a startled look before opening it.

Remus glanced up from the very first page, eyes huge. He watched Sirius for a long time before looking at the book again, now turning the page.

Each drawing in that book was of Remus. Sirius hadn’t thought much of it at the time, had just wanted to draw Remus the way he was now compared to the John who he had been in Sirius’s memories. As time went on, he had noticed new sides to Remus and had drawn them. There were several weeks between drawings at first, all of them drawn from memory so he hadn’t gotten every detail right.

In December, he had started drawing Remus more often, had done it in front of Remus, even, enjoying the chance to get it all right. Sometimes he had drawn the two of them together, and each drawing from December to February was joyful. He hadn’t drawn another picture of Remus since their break-up.

As he watched Remus go through the book, he realised that those two sketchbooks were his diary. They were his way of sorting through his feelings, they were his way of determining what things he wanted to remember, and what he needed to work through. They were him at his most raw, and he was letting Remus see.

Remus got to the last picture and closed the book. He closed his eyes too, but his face was a reflection of his pain.

“How can you see so much good in me?” Remus asked, voice hoarse.

He opened his eyes. They were wet but not exactly tearing up.

“I care about you,” Sirius managed. “I care about every part of you.”

“You don’t even know me that well,” Remus objected. “You knew me for less than a year when we were fifteen–”

“Sixteen.”

“– and we only really started spending time together,” Remus continued, “in December–”

“Late November.”

“– and,” Remus said and half-heartedly glared at Sirius, “it’s reasonable to say that really, you’ve only known me as I am now for a couple of months.”

“Remus,” Sirius said. “We’ve been working together since July.”

“But I have a different work persona,” Remus started, but Sirius cut him off.

“I know that, Remus. I know that, and I also know we had this conversation back in December.”

Remus frowned. He clutched Sirius’s sketchbooks tightly against himself.

“But I didn’t really know you,” Remus said quietly.

Sirius felt like Remus had just punched him.

“Was this,” Remus glanced down at the sketchbooks. “Did you already have this side to you back then? When you were sixteen?”

Sirius opened his mouth but didn’t know what he was supposed to say, so he closed it again.

“Did I know you at all?” Remus asked. “Even back then?”

Sirius’s gut dropped and he croaked out, “That’s not fair.”

“Why?” Remus asked.

“That’s not,” Sirius tried to quickly gather his thoughts. “It’s not like I’ve been lying to you, Remus. Maybe I have avoided talking about some things, but I’ve never lied. Except that time when I said you were a waste of my time. That was a lie.”

Remus shook his head but remained quiet.

“Remus,” Sirius said, dissatisfied with how whiny his voice sounded. “Those things,” he gestured towards the sketchbooks, “don’t define me. They… They’re not the real me.”

“But they are,” Remus argued. “Even if you don’t like it, it’s still a part of you.”

Sirius sighed and leaned back on the bed until his shoulders met the wall.

“Why did you never tell me?” Remus asked, turning to face Sirius. “I told you a lot about… about things I don’t like talking about. Why didn’t you trust me?”

“It’s not about trust,” Sirius said tiredly and closed his eyes.

“Of course it is,” Remus said. “What else would it be about?”

“It’s not about trust,” Sirius repeated. “I just don’t… I don’t talk about that stuff. Because it doesn’t matter. It’s nothing.”

Remus went silent for a moment. Then, quietly, he said, “It’s not nothing. If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t feel the need to draw it.”

Sirius wanted to argue but didn’t know how he possibly could.

“Why do you feel so bad?” Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged, his throat constricting again.

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” Remus asked.

Sirius shook his head and took a few deep breaths before he managed to say, “It’s not about wanting. I can’t.”

“Why?” Remus asked. “If you’re worried about how I’m going to react–”

“No,” Sirius said. “No, Remus. I mean I literally can’t. I… I get all choked up.”

He glanced at Remus, who seemed to understand what he meant. It was amazing, Sirius thought, how much Remus was allowing him to see. Remus was good at hiding his feelings, and to be able to tell what he was thinking felt like a privilege.

Remus turned to look at the sketchbooks he was holding. He opened the green book and studied the drawings again. Sirius closed his eyes, so he didn’t need to see.

After a while, Remus asked, “Are you lonely?”

He sounded hesitant, and Sirius opened his eyes. Remus was watching him apprehensively.

Sirius nodded.

Remus glanced down at the sketchbooks, then up at Sirius.

“But not with me?” he asked.

“Not with you,” Sirius whispered.

“But in general,” Remus asked, “you’re lonely?”

Sirius nodded and averted his eyes. In his peripheral vision he saw Remus turn his head down to look at the sketchbooks again, turning the pages.

“Is it Hogsmeade?” Remus asked then and turned to look at Sirius. “Are you lonely because you’re here? Just, you seemed to have used this sketchbook quite rarely before you moved here.”

Sirius nodded again and closed his eyes.

“Are you going to leave?” Remus asked quietly.

“Probably,” Sirius said equally quietly.

“Where will you go?” Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged and said, “I don’t know. Somewhere closer-by to the Potters. Somewhere bigger.”

“You’re still a big-city boy, huh,” Remus said.

Sirius’s neck was starting to feel uncomfortable and he wiggled around, trying to find a better position. He couldn’t, so eventually he just turned to lie on his side, his back towards Remus.

It was quiet for a long time.

“Sirius,” Remus said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Do you still feel like you’re not good enough?” Remus asked. “I don’t mean for me. I mean in general.”

Sirius nodded, although he wasn’t sure how easy it was for Remus to tell.

It was quiet for a long time again.

“Sirius,” Remus then asked. “Did I cause it?”

“No,” Sirius said. He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to say, “Maybe you contributed to it, but it didn’t start with you.”

“Okay.”

Sirius wasn’t sure, but he thought that Remus sounded relieved.

“My parents,” he croaked out then. “They wanted me to be different. My brother was always better. I was always wrong.”

Remus said nothing, but he shifted. The bed dipped as Remus settled against the wall. Then he placed a warm hand on Sirius’s arm.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sirius whispered and turned his head to rest his forehead on the bed. “I was supposed to go to university and become someone important. But then they disinherited me, and the Potters don’t… I know there must be something they want me to be, but they don’t say. And that’s worse, because I don’t know what they want me to be. What I should do with my life. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me to be a librarian.”

Sirius wondered if that was insulting to Remus, who was also a librarian and seemed happy with his job.

“Didn’t you say that the Potters took you in?” Remus asked and waited until Sirius nodded. “Then, they’ve been acting as your parents, right?” Once again, he waited for Sirius to nod. “I’m sure that all they want is for you to be happy. That’s how parents are supposed to be. They just want you to be happy with what you choose.”

“And I failed at that, too,” Sirius mumbled.

“You’re not completely unhappy, are you?” Remus asked. “You seem to be enjoying the library quite a lot, in fact. Am I right?”

Sirius nodded.

“And,” Remus said, now hesitating, and the weight of his hand on Sirius’s arm lessened. “You’ve been happy with me?”

Sirius nodded again, then whispered, “But now I don’t have you anymore.”

Remus sighed and squeezed Sirius’s arm before pulling his hand away. Sirius felt cold and alone, even though he could still feel Remus sitting right next to him.

“I should have talked to you,” Remus said regretfully. “I knew I should have… I was just scared that you were going to tell me how much trouble I am. I already know it. I don’t need to hear it. So I… I’m sorry I didn’t ask. I’m sorry I just assumed.”

Remus went quiet. Sirius waited, but when Remus said nothing else, he sat up and settled next to Remus against the wall.

“You make me so happy, Remus,” he said quietly.

Remus was fidgeting with the hem of his jumper. His ears quickly went red. Sirius gently took a hold of his hand and laced their fingers together.

“Sirius,” Remus said, and his tone of voice was enough to tell Sirius that he was going to argue.

“No, Remus,” Sirius said. “Hear me out. I really, really like you. I like you so much. I just… I really want to make this work. Can we, please, have another go?”

“I’m going to keep breaking your heart,” Remus said, head turned down. He was watching their joined hands. “I don’t know how to be happy. It feels wrong. Like I’m borrowing it from someone else.”

“I want to try,” Sirius said. “I… Look, I’m not going to lie, Remus, it’s not all great and happy and whatever, it’s been hard too. It’s… I feel bad when you’re having a bad day, and sometimes I feel like maybe it’s my fault because I’m so…”

“It’s not your fault,” Remus said before Sirius could find the right words.

Sirius squeezed his hand and continued, “It’s especially hard when you’re having a bad day but I’m having a bad day too. Because when you have a bad day, you want to be alone and can’t deal with people. But when I have a bad day, I need to feel like someone’s there for me. And sometimes you can’t be that for me, but I… I can live with that because I have friends who I can call.”

Remus didn’t seem convinced, but he wasn’t arguing.

“I want to try, Remus,” Sirius said again.

“How come you like me so much?” Remus asked, turning his head down more. He sounded frustrated, but Sirius could no longer see his face to gauge the level of frustration. “Isn’t it just because I’m the only option?”

“You’re not the only option,” Sirius said and chuckled when Remus turned to look at him in question. “You’re not. Before we got together, I would go to the bigger towns on weekends, meet people. If I wanted to, I could have tried to find someone there. But I didn’t want to.”

Remus frowned at him but said nothing.

“I like you,” Sirius said, the words coming much more easily now that they had moved on to a safer topic, “because you inexplicably make me feel safe. I like your sense of humour, I like listening to you talk about things you’re passionate about, and I like just being with you and saying nothing because it doesn’t feel bad to be quiet. I like how sensible you are, and I like when you forget about being reasonable and do something unexpected. I like the sound of your laugh and I like waking up next to you, and I like walking with you outside and not holding hands because I’m walking _with_ _you_. You make me laugh, you make me forget that I’m unhappy, you make me feel like I’m alive.”

Remus’s eyes had been widening throughout Sirius’s monologue, and they were now huge, staring at Sirius in disbelief.

“I know we’re going to make plenty more mistakes,” Sirius said, “but, Remus, isn’t that what every couple does? We’re young and we’re still learning, but how else do we learn other than by making mistakes?”

Remus sighed and looked away.

“I don’t know, Sirius,” he said and shook his head slowly. “Clearly, we have communication issues. If we can’t communicate, how are we ever supposed to have a relationship?”

“Aren’t we communicating right now?” Sirius asked and leaned against Remus’s shoulder. “I think this is a prime example of good communication.”

Remus shook his head but when he turned his head to look at Sirius, he was smiling. For a moment, they simply gazed at each other and smiled. Remus leaned against Sirius too.

“Don’t you think,” Remus asked, “that we have too many issues between us? Have you ever even done anything about your issues?”

Sirius looked away, knowing that it answered Remus’s question.

“You didn’t really say much,” Remus said, “but it sounds to me like your issues start from childhood. And you’ve never talked about them?”

Sirius shrugged.

“It sounds to me like,” Remus said, “you should be in therapy.”

Sirius turned to glare at Remus sharply, but before he could voice his disagreement, Remus glared back.

“Before you say anything negative about people who require therapy,” Remus said, “keep in mind that I am one of those people. I have been one of those people for a long time.”

Sirius bit the inside of his lip and felt the fight slowly drip out of him. He rested his forehead on Remus’s shoulder.

“You don’t understand, Remus,” he whispered. “I come from a world where therapy is a swear word and being in therapy is one of the worst things that could happen to you.”

“What are the other things?” Remus asked.

“Being poor,” Sirius whispered. Then, his mouth curved into a smile, and, more loudly, he said, “Being gay.”

Remus snorted at that, and Sirius’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“It's,” Sirius said and sighed, “hard. To change my view on things. And I don't mean that I've been secretly thinking that you're somehow wrong for needing therapy. I mean that I can accept it for other people but accepting it for myself is different.”

Remus used his free hand to softly ruffle Sirius's hair.

“You would benefit from it,” Remus said. “Just think about it.”

Sirius hummed. They went quiet, but the silence weighed less, made Sirius less uneasy. Remus shifted. He opened the green sketchbook and showed Sirius the second drawing in it.

“What happened?” he asked.

Sirius took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

“I had a boyfriend,” he said quietly. “He was my first everything. I… I liked him so much. He broke up with me.”

Remus waited for a beat before asking, “Why?”

“He said that I,” Sirius started, then couldn't get the words out. He swallowed and cleared his throat, then swallowed again, before he forced out, “He could do better.”

“He told you that he could do better?” Remus asked. “Or you took it that way?”

“Remus,” Sirius said and managed a genuine chuckle. “There is no way I misunderstood. He literally said the words 'I can do better than you.' In fact, I think he said that he could do _much_ better.”

Remus was quiet for a beat before bursting out, “What a wanker.”

Sirius snorted and lifted his head.

“James punched him,” he said wistfully. “It was amazing.”

“Didn't James get into trouble?” Remus asked.

“Nah,” Sirius chuckled. “Gil insisted that he walked into a door.”

“Sounds like I should be glad I didn’t get punched last month,” Remus said drily.

Sirius barked out a laugh.

“Oh, James has grown up,” he said. “Also, he didn’t have all the details.”

“What details?” Remus asked, slightly apprehensively.

“Well,” Sirius said slowly, “he didn’t know we used to know each other way back when.”

“It was only four years ago,” Remus pointed out.

“We met over five years ago,” Sirius said.

Remus shook his head but smiled. Sirius leaned closer to him again.

“Anyway,” he said, “James didn’t know until I told him last month. And while I was already talking, I also told him that what happened back then was a misunderstanding, so no need to get angry about it.”

Remus sighed. Sirius glanced at him and saw that he was still smiling.

“But really,” Sirius said. “James doesn’t go around punching people. Officially, he punched Gil for reasons completely unrelated to me. Besides, he’s going to be a father, so he’s all grown up now.”

“I see,” Remus said wryly.

“I wouldn’t let him punch you,” Sirius cooed, “and risk ruining your pretty face.”

Remus tried to suppress his smile but couldn’t. Sirius watched it reluctantly grow over his face.

They sat in silence, Sirius playing with Remus’s fingers as Remus watched their joined hands.

“I don’t think we should get back together,” Remus then said.

Sirius abruptly dropped his hand, pulled back, and turned to stare at Remus with wide eyes.

“Why?” he asked, hating how his voice revealed exactly how much he hurt.

“Sirius,” Remus said and turned to look at him. “You’re leaving. You’re going to leave Hogsmeade. You don’t want a long-distance relationship with me.”

“Stop telling me what I want or don’t want,” Sirius snapped.

Remus turned his head so that Sirius could only see the back of it.

“Don’t you think you should leave too?” Sirius then asked. “You’re not exactly thriving here.”

“I’m perfectly fine here,” Remus said quietly.

“But you told me you wanted to leave,” Sirius said.

Remus turned around with a confused frown on his face.

“When did I ever say that?” he asked. “I’ve never said that.”

“You did,” Sirius insisted. “When you told me about… Benjy? You said that he left and you would have left too but you had the house.”

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it. His frown deepened.

“Well, I didn’t mean,” he started, then seemingly changed his mind. “What I meant was… It’s not… I don’t…”

“Remus,” Sirius said and cautiously reached out to take a hold of Remus’s hand again. Remus didn’t resist. “I think you want to leave. You’re just scared because it’s going to mess with your routine. But you could have a new routine, a better routine.”

“But the house,” Remus said quietly, then whispered, “All my parents’ stuff…”

Sirius waited, but when Remus didn’t continue, he asked, “How long has it been?”

“Two years,” Remus whispered. “There was a car crash.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

He pulled Remus into a hug, slowly, in case Remus didn’t want to be hugged. Remus carefully placed the sketchbooks onto the bed beside himself before leaning into the touch, melting against Sirius. He wrapped his arms around Sirius’s waist.

“I won’t be able to find a job,” Remus said against Sirius’s shoulder.

“How did you get your current job?” Sirius asked.

“Edgar is a family friend,” Remus said and seemed to nuzzle closer to Sirius. “It’s a pity job.”

“It’s not,” Sirius said immediately. “He clearly values you a lot. Maybe he has contacts with people and could help find you another position?”

“Another pity job,” Remus mumbled.

“It’s better than no job, right?” Sirius said, then rubbed Remus’s back. “It won’t be pity, Remus. I’m sure Edgar won’t be able to shut up about how amazing you are, a great asset to any business, you marvellously spectacular you.”

Remus snorted.

“Why does that sound like something he’d say?” he asked, voice muffled.

“Because it’s exactly what he’s going to tell everyone,” Sirius said.

“I’m going to need a new therapist,” Remus then said.

“That,” Sirius said sadly, “I don’t know how to help with.”

Remus squeezed Sirius a bit harder before relaxing his arms again.

“I don’t know how I could ever afford to move,” Remus said next. “What if I can’t sell the house? What if I won’t get as much money for it as I should? What if I can’t find a place with a decent rent?”

“Remus,” Sirius said, “I don’t think money is going to be an issue if you have a job.”

“I might not find a job at all,” Remus argued half-heartedly.

“I know it’s all complicated and difficult,” Sirius said, “but at least think about it, Remus. I don’t think this town is very good for you. You kind of seem stuck here.”

For a moment, they were quiet, breathing against each other. Remus was warm in Sirius’s arms.

“Sirius?” Remus then said.

“Hmm?”

“Do you promise you will talk to me?” Remus asked. “Tell me when you’re having a bad day. Even if I’m having a bad day too. I want to know.”

“Okay,” Sirius said and rested his chin on top of Remus’s head. “But you’ll have to promise you won’t jump to conclusions. If you’re uncertain or feel like something’s wrong, ask. We both need to talk more, clearly.”

“Clearly,” Remus agreed.

It was quiet. Sirius closed his eyes and enjoyed how well Remus seemed to fit against him. He felt calm.

“Okay,” Remus said. “We can try again.”

“Third time’s the charm, right?” Sirius said.

Remus chuckled quietly and pulled away from the hug, much to Sirius’s disappointment.

“I guess you’re right,” Remus said. “No one knows how to get it right the first time. We just need to learn from our mistakes.”

Sirius smiled at him and brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

“Thank you for telling me about,” Remus said, then paused for a moment to think, “about everything you told me. I understand it’s not easy.”

“Thank you for making me,” Sirius said. “As hard as it was, I think I feel a bit better.”

Remus smiled sweetly at him and said, “That’s what talking does to you. It makes you feel lighter.”

“You know what else makes me feel lighter?” Sirius asked.

Remus raised his brows in question and Sirius leaned closer.

“Kissing you,” Sirius said.

Remus let out a startled laugh right before Sirius pressed their lips together.

Many things in life were uncertain, but kissing Remus would always certainly make Sirius’s heart soar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius’s self-portraits were inspired by Edward Honaker’s photography: first & second


	7. Epilogue

Remus was nervous.

He would have thought that after five years in a relationship that had always heavily relied on the both of them learning to communicate, he would have gotten used to talking about difficult things.

He had not.

He probably never would. It was most likely an issue born from his lonely childhood; when he was very young, he had had many health issues, and because his parents worried, they didn’t let him go out much. He had some friends in school, but they eventually drifted away from him because he couldn’t spend time with them outside of school.

When he had gotten older and was diagnosed with depression, it started making sense to him why he had a difficult time being interested in other people or wanting to meet new people. He wished that it had made him stop caring completely, so maybe him being named “Loony, Loopy Lupin” wouldn’t have gotten to him so much. He had gained his nickname for being perceived weird, though, not because he had depression. It had been an accidentally accurate name, and one that Remus had eventually internalised.

Then, Sirius had happened. Remus had been taking a Sunday stroll on what was possibly the last warm day in September, when suddenly he was swept away by a boy so beautiful Remus had spent months wondering if it was a joke because there was no way someone as beautiful as Sirius would want to have anything to do with him. It hadn’t all been about the looks, either. Sirius was from Hogwarts, which meant that his family must have been rich.

On top of it all, Remus found out that Sirius was a Black. He couldn’t figure out why someone like that would want anything to do with someone like him: poor, ordinary, friendless. Loony.

He cast his thoughts back to taking Sirius to the library for the first time, discovering that it was Sirius’s very first time visiting the place. Sirius had been apprehensive about it, worried that boys from Hogwarts might spot him, even though he had sneaked out of school, meaning that anyone who might spot him had also left without permission. Remus, himself, had also been slightly worried about any of his school… mates spotting them together. He didn’t need any more attention.

That was also why he hadn’t told Sirius his real name: that way, if Sirius talked about John, no one would know it was really him.

He didn’t need anyone to tell Sirius how loony he was.

He had taken Sirius to his favourite spot in the library, which was his favourite because not many people came that far. There was a lone table with two chairs behind the shelf that held books about philosophy and psychology, subjects that had proven relatively unpopular among the people visiting the Hogsmeade library. It was one of the few spots where he was nearly guaranteed to be left alone.

Sirius had not been a big fan of the library – that much was obvious. He had, however, tried his best to appear interested, which Remus had found utterly adorable.

Remus sighed and closed his eyes. He was lying on the sofa, waiting for Sirius to come home so they could have a conversation. He had been working up to having that conversation ever since they had gone out with James and Lily on the previous weekend and had learned that Lily was expecting again.

Although, could it be considered _again_ when Harry was already going to turn five?

Point was, James and Lily were going to have another baby, and Sirius had been ecstatic. Sirius had always been good with Harry, seemed like a natural, and Remus couldn’t help noticing how much Sirius shone when he spent time with the kid. He seemed like the kind of a person who wanted a bunch of kids of their own.

The issue was that Remus didn’t want children.

Was this going to be the one thing that broke them up for good?

When they had been sixteen and Sirius had told him that he wasn’t worthy of Sirius’s time, he had understood it, he had accepted it. He had known right from the beginning that they were too different, that they would never work out because Remus was ill and Sirius was rich and beautiful – and not gay.

Remus wasn’t sure how exactly he had come to the conclusion that Sirius wasn’t gay and was, in fact, probably homophobic. It just made sense to him, knowing that Sirius went to Hogwarts and knowing what kind of boys went to Hogwarts, knowing that he was a Black. Sirius had told him that it had been him who rejected Sirius after Sirius had tried to take his hand, but he wasn’t sure if that was true. He had forgotten the details, but it made sense to him that he had maybe done something that revealed his crush to Sirius and Sirius had found it disgusting.

What he remembered with clarity was how annoyed he had felt when he had seen Sirius for the first time in four years, and Sirius had still been as beautiful – if not more beautiful – and Remus was still very much attracted to him. He had figured that it didn’t matter, it would be okay and maybe they could even make friends given time, since Sirius didn’t seem outwardly hostile.

Finding out that Sirius was gay had been an experience.

At first, Remus had thought that Sirius was joking, but the expression on Sirius’s face had told him that Sirius was sincere. What he had thought he knew about Sirius had been very quickly shattered, and he didn’t know what to do with that. He hadn’t wanted to think that maybe there was a chance for them, because even if Sirius was no longer a Black, he had been taken in by another rich family, while Remus was still very much poor.

He chuckled to himself as he thought about it, because wasn’t that something that was never going to change? They were currently living in a flat Sirius had inherited from his uncle, and from the way Sirius sometimes spent money, Remus had deduced that the rest of his inheritance had been sizable too.

And then there was the bike.

Sirius had inherited his uncle’s motorcycle, and it had been love at first sight. Remus hadn’t thought much of it at first, but Sirius had since gotten a job at a garage, learning how to fix motorbikes, and even after three years, he was still very passionate about it. Remus didn’t understand anything Sirius told him about the bikes, but he loved listening to Sirius’s enthusiastic rambles all the same.

Remus, on the other hand, had found a job in a second-hand bookstore that was owned by one of Edgar’s friends. Sirius had been indiscreetly suggesting that he could look into getting a university education because he was good at academics, but Remus wasn’t so sure about that. He was currently doing fine and was able to work full-time, but what if it changed? Studying was stressful and hard, and he worried that it might burn him out quickly.

Not to mention he didn’t feel good about the idea of Sirius paying him through uni.

Remus heard the door, then Sirius’s usual, “Honey, I’m home!”

It never failed to make Remus smile to hear how sincerely Sirius said it.

That was a lie. At first, he had hated it. They had moved in together way too quickly, but it had been a decision born out of convenience and desperation. Sirius’s uncle had died and left him a flat in London. Remus couldn’t afford a flat in London.

Living together had had plenty of ups and downs, and sometimes Remus had felt like it was mostly downs. He felt like Sirius didn’t take things seriously, and whenever he made the mistake of saying that, Sirius made the expected pun, putting Remus in a foul mood for days. Sirius refused to listen to reason, made impulsive decisions and disappeared for the night whenever they had a fight, and it was all very stressful for Remus, who had gotten used to a quiet life in a small town. He didn’t understand how Sirius was so happy in London when he himself felt overwhelmed by the people every single time he went outside.

Remus’s depression had gotten worse for a time. Usually, he had one or two days when he needed a lot of rest and didn’t want to talk, but he was still moving around, getting up for a bit to watch telly with Sirius or just snuggling against Sirius while Sirius did something quietly.

That time, however, Remus had only gotten up to use the bathroom and have a drink of water, and he timed it carefully so that Sirius was gone every time he got up. He had lain in bed, facing away from the door, blankets wrapped tightly around himself, completely drained of energy and motivation. He had been prepared to stay there forever.

Sirius had learned to leave him be when he was having a bad day, so Sirius let him be.

Until he realised that Remus hadn’t eaten anything other than bread and chocolate for three days. Sirius had tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t answer. He would pull the blankets over his head, even though it quickly got too stuffy and difficult to breathe.

Something had only moved to the right direction, once Sirius had come to bed and wrapped his arms around Remus.

“Remus,” he had said. “I’m here.”

That was when Remus had discovered that when he was having a bad day, he didn’t need to be left alone; instead, he needed to be reminded that he wasn’t alone, that he had support, that someone cared about him, even though he was useless and broken.

He had turned around in Sirius’s arms, buried his face into Sirius’s chest, and when he woke up the next morning, he allowed Sirius to guide him to the kitchen where he had eaten the breakfast that Sirius prepared.

That, Remus thought, was the worst thing they had faced, and they had gotten through it.

“Hello there, handsome,” Sirius said from the door.

“Hullo,” Remus responded with a smile. “How was therapy?”

Sirius sighed and slumped.

“Tiring,” he said and dragged himself towards the sofa.

Remus sat up to make room for Sirius, who dropped down and leaned against Remus. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’s shoulders.

“Are we going to talk now?” Sirius asked.

“What?” Remus asked, heart skipping a beat.

“You have that look on your face,” Sirius said. “It means you want to talk about something.”

“Oh, no,” Remus hurried to say. “It’s not… No, we don’t need to talk. You’re tired.”

“Remus,” Sirius said and lifted his head enough to look Remus in the eye. “You’ve been acting very strangely for days. Please, let’s have that conversation now, since you were finally ready to have it.”

Remus hesitated still, but when Sirius kept watching him with those insistent eyes, he couldn’t say no.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “I did want to talk to you about something.”

“Mm hm.”

Remus licked his lips and released Sirius.

“No,” Sirius whined and leaned against Remus again. “Hold me while we talk. You’re warm and you smell nice.”

Remus laughed and pulled Sirius into an embrace.

Then, they were quiet.

They were quiet for a long time, Remus trying to find the right words, Sirius resting against him.

Remus laughed nervously and said, “I realise now that I didn’t think this through as thoroughly as I could have.”

“Just blurt it out,” Sirius said.

Remus rolled his eyes. Blurting it out was easy for Sirius, but Remus found it difficult to say things he hadn’t thought through completely beforehand.

“What’s it about?” Sirius asked, when Remus remained quiet.

Remus took in a deep breath and said, “Children.”

Sirius stiffened, and Remus’s heart was immediately racing. Sirius pulled back, and Remus let him go.

“What?” Sirius asked, looking completely taken aback. “What do you mean children? What children?”

Remus bit his lips together, then forced himself to ask, “Do you want children?”

Sirius arched his brow. He appeared so baffled that it would have been funny if Remus wasn’t so nervous.

“Where did that come from?” Sirius asked, then understanding took over his face. “James and Lily.”

Remus nodded stiffly.

“Oh,” Sirius said and hunched over. He turned his head down and crossed his arms. Then he quickly uncrossed them. “I… I don’t know why I didn’t think this might come up. And that it might be an issue.”

Remus felt weak.

“Is it an issue, then?” he asked quietly.

Sirius glanced at him. He was biting his lip. He turned to look towards the door, and Remus wondered just how much he wanted to run away and disappear.

“I’m so sorry, Remus,” Sirius said quietly.

Remus’s heart dropped. He swallowed heavily.

“Right,” he whispered.

The clock was ticking loudly. Remus wished that he hadn’t started the conversation. They could have had a few more years together before Sirius started suggesting that they could consider children.

“I just,” Sirius said very quietly. “I don’t think I’d make a good father.”

Remus blinked. He blinked again. He didn’t think he had heard correctly.

“What?” he asked, too loudly in the near-silence.

Sirius turned to look at him with big sorrowful eyes.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” he said. “I’m just so scared that I’ll screw up. I don’t know how parents are supposed to act. I’m worried that I’d be too… What if I just end up being like my parents?”

Remus stared at him for a moment before asking again, “What?”

Sirius looked pained as he said, “I just don’t think I would be a safe parent.”

Remus was having difficulties wrapping his head around anything Sirius had just told him. He was still staring at Sirius, who was starting to seem uncomfortable. He looked more apologetic than Remus had ever seen him before.

“I just,” Sirius said quietly. “I understand if that is a deal-breaker for you. I… I just wish that we could… Maybe there’s a way that we could still make it work. I… I love you so much, Remus, I don’t want to lose you over this, but I understand if… I…”

“Sirius,” Remus finally managed to get out. “Are you telling me you don’t want children?”

Sirius stopped, mouth still half-open. He squinted at Remus, as though it would help him understand what Remus had just said. He leaned back a bit, looked to the left, then to the right, his frown deep between his brows. Then he turned to Remus again.

“Excuse me?” he finally said.

“Did you just tell me you don’t want children?” Remus repeated.

Sirius seemed uncertain when he slowly said, “Yes?”

Remus let out a massive sigh.

“Oh, thank god,” he said. “Thank god.”

“What?” Sirius asked, eyes wide and somewhat fearful.

Remus leaned forward and took Sirius’s hands into his own. He looked Sirius straight in the eye and said, “I don’t want children either.”

Sirius stared at him for a moment, then slumped forward, resting his forehead on Remus’s shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Remus,” he wheezed. “Did I just have a heart attack over nothing?”

“I’m sorry,” Remus said and pulled Sirius properly against himself.

They remained there, quietly holding each other. The clock seemed less loud.

Then, Sirius laughed. He pulled back enough to look at Remus and with mirth in his eyes, he said, “I guess we still haven’t quite figured out this communication thing.”

Remus smiled at that. He stroked Sirius’s hair.

“Well, I guess we’re getting better,” he said. “At least we didn’t break up before realising there was yet another miscommunication.”

“Will we ever learn?” Sirius asked.

“I should hope so,” Remus said. “I’m not sure my heart can take this much longer.”

“My sanity won’t take this much longer,” Sirius said.

They settled more comfortably on the sofa, still wrapped around each other. Remus glanced up to the wall where they had hung a portrait Sirius had painted of them together. Honestly speaking, Remus was surprised that Sirius hadn’t given up on painting. He didn’t do it often and he clearly preferred drawing, but something kept him going.

“What made you think I’d want children?” Sirius then asked, bringing Remus’s attention back to the conversation.

“You were so excited about the baby,” Remus said, stroking Sirius’s hair. “And you’re so good with Harry. You’d make a great father.”

Sirius turned his head to bury his face against Remus’s chest. They remained like that for a long time, Remus still softly stroking Sirius’s hair.

Eventually, Sirius turned his head to look up at Remus again and said, “It’s different. It’s so different when I know I’m not responsible for raising him. I’m just his fun godfather and I get to leave him with his parents who are competent in what they do.”

“You don’t know you wouldn’t be competent,” Remus pointed out.

Sirius chuckled.

“Remus,” he said. “I thought you said you didn’t want children. Why does it sound like you’re trying to talk me into having them?”

Remus smiled and pressed a kiss on top of Sirius’s head.

“I don’t want children,” Remus said. “I don’t… The depression is always going to be an issue.”

“But you’re doing so well right now,” Sirius pointed out.

Remus nodded and pulled Sirius more firmly against himself.

“It might not last,” he said quietly. “Most likely, it won’t last. And I could never bring a child into a situation where I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to take care of them.”

Sirius hummed softly and nuzzled his nose against Remus’s collarbone.

“In a way, I think I would want children,” he said, making Remus’s stomach drop. “But I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to try.”

Sirius turned to look at Remus and his smile disappeared. Remus wondered what Sirius saw on his face.

“Oh, Remus,” Sirius said, cupping Remus’s cheek. “I didn’t mean that I want children bad enough to… I don’t know, leave you? I’m perfectly happy like this, you at home with me and Harry being my godson whom I can always return to his proper parents. I don’t need anything else.”

“Nothing else?” Remus asked, trying for a teasing tone but still feeling somewhat unsettled.

“Well,” Sirius said and grinned widely. “I wouldn’t mind having a husband.”

Remus laughed and pulled Sirius’s face closer to give him a wet kiss. Sirius kept smiling at him, but then went serious.

“I do mean it, Remus,” he said. “I want to marry you, now that it’s possible. I mean, not _now_ , but one day. When you maybe want it too?”

Remus felt his heart melt as he gazed into Sirius’s eyes.

“I love you, Sirius,” he said, stroking Sirius’s cheeks with his thumbs. “I would love to be your husband.”

Sirius looked startled, then his face went impossibly bright.

“Did we just propose to each other?” he asked.

“I guess,” Remus said. “Couldn’t communicate that more clearly either, could we?”

Sirius laughed and launched forward to kiss Remus all over his face. Remus laughed and kissed back as much as he could.

“We’ll need rings,” Sirius said against Remus’s lips. “And please, Remus, don’t think about money. Can you just… let me deal with the money when it comes to our engagement and our future wedding?”

Remus sighed and pursed his lips, but that only made them press against Sirius’s.

“Fine,” he said. “But I’ll pay for the cake.”

“Deal,” Sirius said, sealing it with a kiss. He outright giggled against Remus’s lips. “Can we tell people? Is this something we can tell people? Or should we get rings and see how long it takes James to notice? We can place bets.”

Remus snorted.

“That sounds like a fun activity,” he said. “I’m going to guess one month.”

“I say two,” Sirius said. Then he pulled back a bit and looked at Remus thoughtfully. “How attached are you to your surname?”

Remus raised his brows.

“I was just thinking,” Sirius said, shyly turning his head away. “I would really like to be called Lupin.”

“It’s less paperwork if my name stays the same,” Remus said.

Sirius turned to cautiously look at him. Remus smiled. Sirius gave him a tentative smile in return.

“Sirius,” Remus said and placed his hands on Sirius’s shoulders. “Once we get married, you will become a Lupin.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius asked timidly.

“Absolutely,” Remus said.

Sirius blushed beautifully and looked away.

“Okay,” he said.

Remus let go of his shoulders to gently turn Sirius’s head towards himself before kissing him.

As tumultuous as their relationship had always been, Remus thought that it was the best relationship anyone could ask for. Sirius had breathed life into Remus’s bleak existence and continued to do so day after day. He wouldn’t give any of it away, not even the bad times, and together they would keep growing into (hopefully) fully functional adults in a fully functional relationship.

As husbands.

**Author's Note:**

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